


Past and Present

by MegTheFireGoddess



Series: Copper and Shadow [3]
Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-05-26 07:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 41,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14995865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegTheFireGoddess/pseuds/MegTheFireGoddess
Summary: Rewrite of Emperor Mage from Numair's POV. Lots of cannon deviation and references to Tempests and Slaughter.





	1. Pardoned

As Numair stared down at the parchment in his hands a cold fear blew over him, freezing his features into emptiness. It was a strange thought to have, to be afraid of a piece of parchment. As if it alone had the ability to destroy him.

"Why?"

Black eyes flicked up to take in the king’s expression. The king’s dark blue irises were lit with bolts of aqua lightening and his chiseled features were clouded with a mixing of hatred and hope.

“The Emperor is suing for peace. Knowing that you are on my personal counsel he sent along a pardon with his official request for a delegation to be sent to Carthak.”

“It’s a trap. Ozorne would never be so...generous. At least not to me.” Numair’s voice sounded strange to his ears, like he was some monotoned academic giving a lecture.

“I know that it looks bad,” said the king, his head and shoulders falling forward in defeat, “A conference on Carthaki soil means sending some of my best friends into danger but we don’t have much of a choice. Turning our nose up at a chance for peace would make our allies flee in droves.”

“So, either we negotiate a treaty, or we prove that the Emperor is not the peace-loving regent he claims to be,” Numair said matter-of-factly. He dropped the pardon on the desk and it settled on the varnished wood like a feather. It might as well have been a gavel. “When do we leave?”

“In one month.”

Numair let out a long breath but even that had an air of stoicism uncharacteristic of the tall mage, “Then I’d best start packing. Send the details to my room, won’t you?”

“Are you going to be alright?” Jonathan asked Numair’s back. The mage froze, his hand resting on the polished brass doorknob. A moment passed in silence while Numair stared down at his own hand as if it could answer the question for him.

When he finally spoke it was in a near whisper, “No, Jon. I’m not but there’s nothing to be done, is there? You’re basically asking me to die for the good of the realm.”

“If we go to war, everyone loses,” Jonathan said sadly, “We need peace.”

“Peace is a fool’s errand,” Numair replied, with a smile so dark and out of place, it seemed menacing, “So I suppose it’s a good thing you’re sending a player.”

The king couldn’t respond before Numair closed the door behind him.

In the hall, Numair stood completely still, the clicking of the door latch like a knife between his ribs.

Grey autumn sunlight filtered through the shuttered archer’s window to slide across his swarthy skin like the shadowy bars of a prison cell. His heart raced, his thoughts unable to form past the singular mantra of a promise made so many years ago. He would never go back. He would never allow himself to be imprisoned again. He would rather die.

His stilt-like legs moved of their own volition, pulling him toward the nearest exit. As the cold autumn breeze touched his face, he realized he was shivering. He was breathing open air but he still felt like he was caged. Like he should run.

“Numair?”

The voice that spoke his name had the musical quality of bird song, even while tinged with concern. The owner walked toward him, a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. She stopped directly in front of him, so close that the fog caused by his rapid breathing caught in the wisps of her wild smokey-brown curls.

He looked down into the grey-blue eyes of his student and whispered her name as if he had just remembered it, “Daine.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He couldn’t answer as his thoughts crashed down around him. How could he tell her that, for the good of their home, he would have to face the memories that still haunted his nightmares?

Quickly, she put the arrow back in her quiver and strung her bow across her back, each movement fluid and well-practiced. “Numair, you need to calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”

The urgency of her words barely registered among his cascading thoughts until the moment she took his hands into each of hers, using deceptively strong fingers to uncurl the fists he didn’t know he had made. A stinging sensation told him that his nails had bitten into the palm deep enough to break the skin.

It was enough to break through his icy exterior to hit his brain with a shock of heat, sending a needling sensation across his scalp. He saw her for the first time since she had said his name, finally looking past his raging emotions to see that she was intermittently glancing from his feet to various places around the training yard. Following the path of her gaze, he saw that the grass around his feet had died in a perfect circle and that the archery targets had all been set ablaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said, deflating under the knowledge of what he’d allowed his magic to do.

“Don’t apologize.”

Copper light rose from her, following the path of his shadowy gift and guiding it back toward him, extinguishing the fires and leaving behind great blackened shapes that had once resembled enemy soldiers. Clenching his teeth, he aided her in taming his magic, pulling it back into his physical body.

Once his gift was contained, she let out a long breath and squeezed his hands, “Now, calm down and tell me what’s wrong. I’ve never seen you like this, it’s-” The word “frightening” hung in the air like a sword set to violently separate them but the downward strike was arrested as she found an alternative, “Well, it’s like you’ve been frozen in ice.”

“Carthak is suing for peace. I’ve- I’ve been pardoned long enough to attend the negotiations.”

A small gasp escaped her, “You can’t go!”

He sighed, the fear in her expression making him retreat back to the distant logic that was his haven, “I must, magelet. By sending a pardon the emperor laid down a challenge. If I don’t go, it’s as good as telling Tortall’s allies that we don’t want peace. They won’t support us if it comes to war.”

The look on her face said that she knew exactly what would happen to Tortall if they faced Carthak alone and, seeing no argument against that, turned to reason in much the same manner he had, “Surely the king wouldn’t send you there if he thought you’d be in danger. The Emperor won’t be able to arrest you, right?”

“He could if I break the rules outlined in the pardon. Like if I leave the palace grounds or use magic in the emperor’s presence.”

She nodded once, “Alright. Then I’m going with you.”

His logic died in a hurricane of renewed fear as all of the ways Ozorne could hurt her whirled through his mind, “Absolutely not. There is no way I will let you walk with me into a potential trap.”

As was expected, she raised her stubborn chin in defiance, “And there’s no way I’m letting you go it alone.” But just as soon as her stubborn indignation rose, it died, and she stared up at him with that haunted vulnerability he had come to know as his ultimate undoing, “You were there to help me face my past. Let me do the same for you.”

Those heavy words stole away every fearful warning that crossed his mind. All he could do was nod.


	2. Farewell to Good

That was how Numair found himself sitting in the cramped cabin of a Tortallan ship as his student tried to make space for him. Daine was as thin as any healthy seventeen-year-old could be but that didn’t mean much when she was trying to make room for her six-foot-five teacher, and a stocky female knight who liked to throw elbows, on a rack-bed meant for someone who was five-foot-eight at maximum.

Kitten, a powder-blue dragon the size of a cat, let out an annoyed chirp at being forced from her seat to be confined to her adopted mother’s lap.

“Thank you, magelet. And you, Kitten.”

Kitten looked up at Numair with amber slit-pupiled eyes and let him know with a series of clicks and whistles that he was far from welcome.

“Oh, hush,” said Daine, turning a chiding gaze on the dragonet.

With the petulance that only a baby dragon could conjure, Kitten continued her tirade in a mutter. Feeling a little guilty for robbing Kitten of her seat, he reached over and petted her. She was immediately mollified.

Daine smirked at him, elbowing him in a playful warning not to spoil the little immortal. He could only shrug his thin shoulders in reply. Considering that they were about to dock in the last place on earth Numair wanted to be, he wasn’t really in the mood to admonish. He needed his positivity far too much.

“If we could get back on topic?” said Duke Gareth the Elder, a seventy-year-old man who manners dictated was to receive the only chair in the cabin while those who couldn’t fit on the bed were forced to stand.

Numair waved the man on.

“You all know why we’re here so I’m not going to waste time rehashing the details of what we hope to accomplish. I would just like to remind everyone how precarious our position is. While the Emperor is our host, there will be no mention of the attacks on Pirate’s Swoop or the attempted coup in Dunlath. Do not speak to the slaves of freedom and-” Duke Gareth pointed a particularly warning glare on Numair, “For Mithros’ sake, do not draw the Emperor’s ire by mentioning topics best left in the past.”

Rolling his eyes, Numair held up his hands in a pantomimed surrender, “Believe me, Duke, I have no desire to see the inside of a Carthaki prison. Once was more than enough.”

“Good. Now we are supposed to be greeted by a member of the royal family. Likely a lesser prince but no less a person to be respected. Mind your manners and only speak when spoken to.”

This time the Duke turned his warning look on Daine who ducked her head to hide a blush, “Yessir.”

Numair patted her knee, “I think Daine is the least of our worries. Or did you forget what happened when the Carthaki Ambassador insisted that the attack on Pirate’s Swoop was ‘invited by the installation of a known criminal element in a position of power'.” He turned to the female knight beside him, “Sure, broken noses might be high fashion in Tortall but I doubt it is a trend among the Carthaki court. Damnit, Alanna! Ow!”

Alanna had stepped on his foot so hard he was sure that she broke his toe.

“You, Master Numair, would do well not to mention that again,” she said but the smile in her amethyst eyes belied her scowl.

“Despite his obvious teasing, he does make a good point, My Lady. We cannot have any demonstrations of your infamous temper while here,” said Gareth the Younger, called Gary by his peers. Though his words were a serious warning, the man’s lips twisted upward in a smile.

The knight had the self-awareness to blush and mutter that she would be on her best behavior.

“At least you all are getting it out of your system before we dock,” said the Elder, shaking his head sadly at their antics.

A sharp boatswain's whistle alerted the congregation that docking procedures had begun, effectively ending the meeting of those specially chosen by King Jonathan of Tortall to represent his country in the peace negotiations.

Numair stood, having to duck slightly so that he wouldn’t hit his head on the low ceiling, and looked down at Daine.

“I’ll take Kitten up to watch the ship dock if you’d like. It’s fascinating, they use spells to keep the ship in place while-”

He didn’t get to finish his explanation as Kitten trilled happily, practically leaping into Numair’s arms.

“Thanks,” said Daine, “It’ll make it easier to get ready without her underfoot. Seeing as the rest of us have more to do than just put on a robe.”

She gestured at the heavy silk of his black robe, the one that designated him as one of the most powerful mages in the world.

“I’d probably get less sideways looks wearing a dress,” he replied, passing her a mockingly bored expression.

Daine chuckled, “I doubt that.”

He scoffed and led her toward the ship’s main corridor, “You’ll see. I’m about to become the talk of the city. Seeing as I’m apparently a ‘traitorous, power-hungry, mage who only received black robe status by expertly manipulating everyone foolish enough to befriend me’.”

“Keep giving yourself so much credit and I’m going to have to find a wheelbarrow for that huge head,” she replied.

“Not with you around to keep my vanity in check, magelet.”

She was still shaking her head ruefully as they went their separate ways.

On the main deck, Numair went to the broad side of the ship and set Kitten on the rail so that she could watch the mages steer the ship into the port with raised arms and spoken spells. She was enamored with the scene, trilling softly in awe as ropes tied themselves to the pier.

Unfortunately, he had made a grave error a year ago when, upon their return from the Dunlath fief, he had given Kitten a book on whistle magics. She practiced one such spell on the newly tied ropes, whistling sharply in order to make the knots magically come undone. The dock worker below let out a loud cry as the ship began to drift from its mooring.

“Kitten,” he warned, adding authority to a voice that didn’t want to hold it.

“Be good,” said Daine, stepping up from below to scold the dragonet.

Numair did a double take.

The young woman who moved to stand at his right could not be his student. His student was a wild-thing who wore dirt like it was a cosmetic and bits of hay like ornaments in her smokey-brown curls. The person beside him had the same basic features as his magelet, from bow-shaped mouth to stubborn chin, but she was stunning in a silver-blue dress of thin silk that fell perfectly around her, accentuating curves that he had never noticed before and highlighting the glimmer in her wide, stormy eyes. Even her hair was tamer, pinned back carefully so as not to hide the gentle slope of her cheeks.

The sapphire drops at her ears were his addition to her wardrobe for the trip. As usual, it had been a bit of an argument when he gave them to her but she soon fell to practicality. The jewelry had been spelled to protect her against spy magics such as listening and watching spells, both being extremely common in the Carthaki court. He could almost regret choosing the sparkling blue stones though, because they matched far too well with her complexion, making her almost glow.

It was enough to make his ever-busy mind blank.

“My, you look pretty,” Numair said, not truly aware of the words his lips formed.

She hid her smile behind her hand and blushed, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, at a loss for anything else to say. Luckily he was saved from an awkward ending to the conversation when hundreds of hounds, cats, and birds let out a chorus of welcome.

“Oh!” was Daine’s only outward reaction as she went to the railing and silently told all the gathered animals to return to their homes. They did as she asked, leaving her with a wide grin.

“They’re all so sweet,” she said to Numair.

He smiled but the expression remained confined to his lips, “Must be nice to have friends wherever you go.”

“It is,” she replied, turning a sideways look on him. When he met her gaze, she pointedly glanced down at his hands. They gripped the rail with white-knuckles and were draped in crackling black fire.

He quickly let go of the wood and shook the unruly magic from his hands, leaving only the hand-shaped scorch marks as evidence of his ever-increasing discomfort.

“Are you going to be alright?” she asked him softly.

Taking a calming breath, he nodded, “As well as can be expected. I’m just not sure what prospect makes me more apprehensive- seeing old enemies or old friends.”

“Old enemies, surely?” she asked, her eyebrows raising in understated alarm.

It was obvious who she was referring to but even she couldn’t know how loaded his words were. Emperor Ozorne had been a friend once, back when they were students at the Carthaki school for mages. Then Ozorne had declared Numair a traitor and imprisoned him with spells specifically designed to cage his often untamable magic.

To find out that the spells had been built and tested over a period of months, months where Ozorne had smiled and called Numair his best friend, had almost hurt more than if Ozorne had stabbed him in the heart.

Numair wasn’t sure which man he would be met with at the official greeting that night. His old friend- with his straightforward and kind nature, or his old enemy- the devious and deceitful Emperor. The latter was almost preferred. He didn’t know if he could survive a conference with the Ozorne he used to know. Blurred lines were dangerous with so much at stake.

Daine took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently in a silent offering of strength. He took it gladly, squeezing her hand in return to assure her that her support was appreciated.

A loud gong drew their attention toward the pier where a gilded procession moved steadily toward their dock. Automatically, they disentangled their hands as they were joined at the rail by the rest of the Tortallan delegation.

“Who’s that?” Daine asked, indicating the young man sitting on a throne of solid gold born by six men with shaved heads.

“The lesser prince sent to greet us,” said Gary.

“That’s no lesser prince,” said Numair, “The lapis lazuli rod in his left-hand means that he is the Imperial Heir.”

“Kaddar,” Gareth said gruffly and cursed under his breath.

A lesser prince was custom. The Imperial Heir was a warning.

Bored with waiting for the slow procession and curious to a fault, an unwatched Kitten scurried down the rail and leaped from the deck to get a closer look at the jewel-encrusted prince.

“Kitten!” Daine called and ran after her just in time to come face-to-face with the deeply confused prince as she snatched the dragonet from his lap.

Numair made to go after them but was stopped short as Alanna grabbed his arm. He shot her a look of warning but her stoney expression told him that any action on his part would only make things worse. In this country, his help was a liability.

He nodded his understanding but found it difficult to remain stationary as a pompous herald pinned Daine with a glare. “Young lady, you-”

“I’m sorry,” Daine muttered lamely, “She’s very curious.”

“It is fine,” said Kaddar, waving the herald away. To the young man’s credit, he recovered quickly, eyeing Kitten with curiosity rather than offense. “This must be the young dragon, Skysong. We were told you would be coming.”

Though Kaddar’s voice retained the air of regality, there was a distinct undercurrent of gentle awe. He flicked his eyes to Daine, kindness shining through the golden irises to smile upon the girl even while decorum stated he remain impassive.

“And you must be Veralidaine Sarrasri.”

Daine blushed and managed a wobbly curtsey despite trying to keep an indignant Kitten locked in her arms, “It’s just Daine, your highness.”

Kaddar bowed his head respectfully, “Of course. Welcome to Carthak Daine.”

“Your majesty, the delegation awaits your formal reception,” bellowed the Herald, as if to announce his displeasure to the world along with his reminder.

A frown fluttered across the prince’s face, his eyes flicking to the Herald before training on Daine again. He raised his chin slightly, “Well, it is wonderful to meet you Miss Sarrasri. It would be my honor to be your escort during your time here.”

Such an offer was traditional and each of them would be made a similar proposal by the end of the day but the Duke had believed Daine’s escort would be made some lower lord, not the crowned prince.

Daine, the epitome of country manners, tried to curtsey again, managing far better since Kitten had settled, “Thank you, your majesty.”

And with a nod of his head, the prince dismissed Daine to join the other delegates who had gathered on the pier.

When she returned to Numair’s side, he turned a dark glare on Kitten. “You’d best stay next to your mother from now on, little one.”

Kitten ducked her head, thoroughly admonished.

“Don’t be upset,” said Daine, soothing the dragonet by gently stroking her spine, “He seemed really nice about it.”

“Yes, he seemed very amenable,” he replied but his voice was filled with suspicion.

“Come, Numair. Aren’t you always tellin’ me not to judge books before you read them?”

“Those are books.”

“And some of them have really long names. Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t read them.” Her teasing tone set him at ease and he could admit that she had a point.

“You win this one, magelet,” he replied and she grinned at him.

They were lined up by rank to formally greet the prince with Daine relegated to the back while he stood behind Alanna. When it was his turn, he bowed respectfully and tried to keep Daine’s words in mind.

He knew nothing of Kaddar but the prince seemed like any other eighteen-year-old young man beneath the jewels and khol that marked him.

“I have heard much about you, Master Salmalin,” said Kaddar, his voice far more authoritative than the one he had used to greet the others, “I look forward to finding out how much of it is true.”

“Likely none of it,” replied Numair easily, “Gossip rarely turns out to be wholly factual.”

“Indeed,” replied Kaddar but there was something strange beneath his impassive facade. Maybe Daine had been right. There definitely seemed to be more to the young man than met the eye.

Next was to greet the gathered ambassadors. They were introduced in a flurry of silk color. Numair knew many of them. Chioke, the master battlemage at the university, was one man he was not likely to ever forget. There had always been something about the dark man’s amber gaze that made Numair dislike him but it wasn’t until years later, when Ozorne had been made Emperor, that Numair had recognized it as the hungry gaze of a predator.

Yet, it was the introduction of Lindhall Reed that overshadowed the others. The older man’s bright blue eyes danced as they fell on his former student, silently reminiscing about conversations that had run deep into the night. It had been Master Lindhall that had helped Numair control his ability to draw power from the earth itself. Despite the uniqueness of the talent, Lindhall had always spoken of it as if it were as natural as breathing. It was a simple kindness that personified the man.

Once the formal greeting was complete, they boarded a large barge which was meant to bypass the city, following the muddy waters of the great Zekoi river directly to the palace. Numair quickly found his old teacher standing beside the rail, looking out of the horizon as if he could make it give up its secrets if only he watched long enough.

Lindhall turned to greet him with a wide grin but, like most, he had to look up to meet Numair’s gaze. It was always a strange contrast to Numair’s memory as his gangly boyhood self had once needed to crane his neck to see the wistful expression that plagued Lindhall’s features.

The two men embraced as if days had separated them rather than years.

“Arram,” Lindhall said, his voice filled with affection, “welcome back, if that’s the proper term for it.”

Numair had a hard time speaking past the lump in his throat, “I’m surprised you remembered our arrival. I was sure I would have to root you out of your workroom.”

“I have an excellent assistant. Far better than you ever were, very organized. Unfortunately, she is about to embark on a year-long study of the merfolk that have moved in along the Tortallan coast. You would think that they’d live in rookeries, like sea lions, but they are apparently tribal. And this must be your student. Arram has spoken of you often in his letters. He says you were able to confirm my theory that bats use sound to find prey.”

Daine, who had been listening to the conversation while hovering near Numair’s elbow, was taken slightly aback by the sudden change of topic. Seeing her startled expression brought a smile to Numair’s face.

Still, she managed to answer without needing Lindhall to repeat himself. “Well, yes, they squeak at things and then move their ears to catch the sounds that come back. Every sound has a different meaning, like soft ones mean prey and loud ones mean rocks or hollow ones mean trees.”

“Fascinating,” said Lindhall, “Numair also said that you have spoken to whales. Tell me, is their song similar to a bird call, used to designate territory and so forth? I originally theorized-”

“Lindhall,” Numair warned with a grin, “While I’m sure Daine would love to answer all your questions she can do so at another time. Right now, I believe Alanna is trying to get her attention.”

“Of course,” said Lindhall, with a fatherly grin, “It was nice to finally meet you, my dear.”

“And you, sir,” Daine replied and scurried off to join Alanna near the bow.

Numair turned to Lindhall with an easy smile but his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Did you receive my last letter?”

“Of course, I’ve already started working on it. That said, Arram, even for you this is rather extreme.”

Numair leaned against the rail, “Possibly, but I would rather resort to extremes than let myself be blinded again.”

“That was a different time.”

Numair passed him a bored glare, “Different, eh? What do you call that?”

He gestured toward the shore. Soldiers, dressed in leather pteruges and matching molded chest pieces, struck large round shields with their spears in salute to the imperial barge. The men should have been in the training yards but they were lined up along the shore like pawns in a chess game.

“Arram-” Lindhall began, the vowels drawn out in a chiding tone, but Numair cut him off by slicing his hand through the empty air.

“I haven’t been Arram Draper for a very long time, Lindhall. Please call me Numair.”

Lindhall’s shoulders fell, the unfamiliar lines in his face deepening as if he were rapidly aging before his former student’s eyes. “Of course. Forgive me.”

Letting out a long sigh, Numair averted his gaze to the freshly painted wood railing. “No, forgive me. ”

The older man clapped Numair on the shoulder, all the tension between them gone in an instant. “I understand. This cannot be easy for you, and will only get more difficult as the day goes on, but you do have allies here. Even if you are no longer the young man we remember.”

Numair passed Lindhall a soft smile, “Thank you.”

Suddenly Numair gasped as a surge of wild magic hit him in the center of his chest. His magic leaped to his palms as he spun toward Daine just in time to watch her dive overboard.

He heard the spell long before he realized what it was or where it came from. Alanna had come to his side, whispering words that Numair had taught her. It was a spell to dampen his magic, making him powerless to interfere.

Due to the river’s strong current, Daine had to fight in order to reach her target- a small creature that was slowly being surrounded by crocodiles.

The only thing that stopped Numair from turning on the knight was a familiar voice inside his mind.

_Do not worry, boy, she will not become food._

Numair recognized it as the grumpy voice of the crocodile god Enzi. He searched for the source and found the large creature on the far bank, watching Daine with amused eyes.

All the crocodiles changed direction, called back toward the tall reeds by their god’s silent command.

Grey magic, belonging to Lindhall, reached out and began lifting Daine from the water.

Daine and her rescuee were deposited safely back aboard the barge and Numair had to fight the urge to touch her, to make sure she was whole. It was only Alanna’s restraining hand on his arm, hidden from the gathering crowd, that ultimately kept him in check.

“Are you alright, my dear?” asked Lindhall.

“Fine,” Daine replied absently, her attention focused on the drenched ball of fur cradled in her arms. It was a pygmy marmoset.

Numair relaxed at the sound of her calm and steady voice. As the muscles in his arms followed suit, Alanna broke the dampening spell she had placed on him.

“Here,” said Lindhall, stepping back and waving his hands. Warmth gathered around Daine, drawing the water from her hair and clothes until she was dry. “Better?”

“Much. Thank you, sir.”

Lindhall waved away her gratitude, “It was a small thing by comparison. That was very brave.”

“Well,” said Daine, blushing slightly, “I couldn’t just let him drown.”

 _I like her_ , said Enzi.

Numair looked across the river to see the great creature almost smiling at him.

“Thank you,” Numair whispered.

_Don’t thank me. Thank your little sunbird. She is the one who told me you’d be here. The timing would be uncanny if I believed in coincidence._

As if called, the brilliant sunbird fluttered out of the reeds to land on Enzi’s back. She perched there, watching him with intelligent eyes, the sun glittering off her mirror-like feathers.

“Thank you, Preet.”

The sunbird bowed her head in acceptance and flapped her magnificent wings, ascending into the sky to return to her home in the divine realm.

A chorus of murmurs pulled Numair’s attention from the majestic display to the mass of finely-clad courtiers that gathered nearby.

Some watched with elitist disgust, others with admiration, but it was the mages that saw more than any others. As a group, their eyes remained fixed on Daine. Most were confused, or awed, the truth of the situation written in their eyes. While Numair remained the only one directly affected, they all had felt the depth of her power.

Lindhall, being the easy negotiator of complex interactions that he was, started on a winded lecture about the marmoset's natural habitat and evolutionary camouflage. Daine listened raptly but the crowd grew bored and moved on. The masters followed suit, engaging each other in mundane conversation.

To most of them, her magic had been an unexplainable phenomenon, a passing flair easily attributed to a poorly trained mage, but one among them kept his eyes trained on Daine. Master Chioke was smiling.

“He’s one to keep an eye on,” said Alanna with disgust, following Numair’s line-of-sight.

Numair subtly nodded, “Chioke is a master of exploitation.”

“I didn’t know that was discipline taught at the university,” remarked the duke.

“It’s the only thing Master Chioke teaches,” Numair replied darkly.

“Don’t worry,” Alanna said reassuringly, “We’ll keep him away from her.”

“That won’t do any good. Chioke casts whispers just as easily as he casts magefire,” said Gary.

The Duke reluctantly agreed, “He won’t care about her if he thinks she’s nothing but a pawn.”

“No chance of that,” said Alanna, heat in her voice, “If those birds are as important to the emperor as you say, Daine is already playing king in this game. The moment she heals whatever ails them, she’ll become valuable.”

“This isn’t chess,” Numair hissed, “there are no rules to this game. Only casualties.”

Vaguely, he heard the duke retort but Numair couldn’t be bothered with the elderly man’s warnings against negative thoughts as his gaze drifted to Daine. Kitten had nuzzled up against her shin, keeping her adopted mother close after her latest foray into trouble. Seeming to feel his gaze, the dragonet chirped at him affectionately. When Daine heard it, she looked to him with a broad smile that made his heart stutter.

In that moment, he said a silent eulogy to his morality.

After all, there was very little a man wasn’t willing to do for his family.


	3. Greetings from the Past

When they arrived at the palace Daine was ferried off by a slew of slaves to bath the silt from her skin while the rest of the delegation was shown to the western wing. Through a set of intricately carved double doors, was a lavish dining area and sitting room. The low table surrounded by thick cushions was standard fare for Carthak but the sitting room sported a pair of upholstered chairs and a sofa. Like the delegates who would use them, they were foreigners from another land and their chocolate-brown color seemed dull compared to the bright colors that painted the rest of the decor. Beside them was a similar-looking end table which sported a taxidermied King Vulture.

Branching off from the communal area were six rooms, one for each of the delegates and one to spare. Numair was led to the one at the back. The slave that escorted him threw open the door and stood back, her shaved head bowed demurely.

“Thank you,” he told the slave and stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was the stuffed bird on the nightstand.

It was a greater bird-of-paradise, poised majestically on a tree branch crafted from wrought iron. It’s long tail sweeping gracefully toward the ground like a waterfall of downy threads. Taxidermy was abhorrent as it was but the creature’s naturally russet, yellow and green feathers had been dyed a dull silver, making it look like a young sunbird.

It was a message. One specifically designed to tell Numair that he had not been forgiven. In Carthak, he was still a criminal.

Though the young slave woman hadn’t meant to unnerve him when she closed the door, the resulting sound echoed in Numair’s ears.

He had to force himself to breathe as the walls closed in on him. For all intents and purposes, this was a prison. And everything he loved was trapped here with him.

In a flurry of steps, he moved to the window and threw open the sandalwood shutters. Sun beat down on him and a humid breeze touched his cheeks, slowing his accelerated heart rate. With the calm, the magic that had escaped his control returned to him to burn beneath his skin like embers.

The door flew open and he spun to find Alanna staring at him in frantic concern.

“By the Goddess!”

She flew into the room, slamming the door behind her and taking up the water jug from the vanity to extinguish the taxidermied bird that had at one point burst into flame. The resulting smoke mingled with the humid air, twirling through it like the fingers of a demon.

“What in the name of divinity happened?”

Numair took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering in a hollow voice, “Sorry, Alanna. I just- let my memories get the better of me.”

Alanna’s stiff shoulders drooped as his words settled on her like the weight of the world. “Damnit, Numair! I felt your power drawing on the air and I thought I’d have to use that gods-cursed spell again!”

She flopped down into the overstuffed desk chair, resting her elbows on her knees as she stared at the varnished wood floor. “I figured we’d at least be here a few days before I’d even think about using it! We’ve been here hours!”

Raising her head, she caught him in her glistening gaze. Her voice went low, pleading. “Please be more careful. I don’t like using that spell on you. It feels like bathing in filth.”

“I’ll try,” he replied, his voice filled with guilt, “but I can’t guarantee anything.”

She bowed her head once more, “Damnit, I should have never agreed to this.”

Numair moved across the room to kneel before his friend, taking her hands in an attempt to convey his gratitude. “You are the only one I could trust with a spell like this and it’s more for Daine’s sake than mine. If Ozorne found out about the connection between our magic-”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she said, cutting him off as her temper returned, “which is the only reason I agreed in the first place. I don’t know why you don’t just talk to her about it! Her control has gotten much better since Dunlath.”

Numair bowed his head contritely. “It has, but it isn’t her control that is the problem. It’s mine. Ever since I removed the barrier between her and her magic, my gift has become very reactive to her presence and during the last year, it has only gotten worse. I’ve tried everything I can think of to temper the connection between us but the dampening spell is the only thing that has worked.”

“So you’ve said before. I understand. It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” he said, sitting back on his haunches, “I know it's not.”

She pulled her hands from his, throwing them out in front of her, “Goddess be good, shut up you fool! There’s no need to be all melancholy! I said it’s fine, so it’s fine!”

Unlike most Numair was not put off by her flare of frustration, catching her hands and squeezing them comfortingly. Her impotent frustration fell to the demonstration of friendship, leaving her with a sigh. “You know, I bet Jon ten crowns you’d find a way to leave her in Tortall.”

Numair let his hands fall away from hers as his stomach twisted into knots, “I should have. I should have locked her in the tower and let her curse me from the safety of Tortall but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Despite the dangers, having her here makes things easier.”

“Not from my perspective,” Alanna replied but the mirth that touched her voice added an element of understanding, “But then, I’m not you. I’ve got more common sense.”

Numair scoffed dramatically, his mood lifting along with hers, “I don’t need common sense. That is what I have you for.”

Alanna stood and grinned at him, “And what an exhausting job that is.”

Patting him on the shoulder, she made for the door, “I’m going to make sure Daine settled in. Why don’t you relax a bit before the feast tonight?”

“My relaxing is about as likely as the seas evaporating and the sun rising in the west,” he replied sarcastically.

“Try anyway, I have a feeling that tonight is going to be far too exciting.”

“I hope you’re wrong.”

“Me too.”

 

The delegates gathered in the antechamber that evening like soldiers on a battlefield. The Carthaki courtiers lined up on one side, the Tortallans and the ambassadors from the eastern lands on the other. Secretive glances were passed between the two groups as they waited to see how the start of negotiations would play out.

Despite the drawn lines, Numair and Lindhall stood together. Dressed in the robes of their magely station but seeming to be exact opposites. Lindhall wore his brown-trimmed crimson robe open to reveal a white silk shirt and grey-brown trousers while Numair had his black robe buttoned to the top of its high collar, his midnight blue silk shirt only visible beneath the belled sleeves.

Yet it was the young woman beside them that stood as the strangest among those poised in the middle of the battlefield. She wore a finely tailored satin dress, the two-toned fabric shifting from silver to sky blue as she moved. From appearances alone, she looked like every other courtiers but it was the little details that separated her from the crowd like the untamable curls fell around her shoulders or the silver badger’s claw winked from her throat. Things that were distinctly Daine.

“Gods, magelet,” he found himself saying when he noticed that some of the men in the chamber were leering at her, “before I know it some deserving young man will be sweeping you away and I’ll be left with nothing but my books for company!”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re being silly.”

He wished it were that simple. “When am I not?”

The intricately carved doors of the great hall swung open and richly dressed soldiers beckoned the congregation forward.

“Into the presence of the one and only Emperor Mage,” Numair said dryly, “Huzza.”

“Are you going to be alright, Arr- forgive me, Numair?” asked Lindhall, concern whispering along the easy tone of his voice.

Numair smiled darkly, “I have to be, don’t I? Choices are for those not in service to kings.”

Ozorne sat upon his gilded throne, held above all others by a dais of shining marble and wearing the wealth of Carthak on every surface of his body.

His simply cut shirt and knee-length kilt were spun from gold thread, gold rings marched up each of his ears, and gold rings adorned every finger and toe. Even the khol that outlined his almond eyes was made from gold powder. The only thing he wore not made from solid gold was the jeweled collar around his neck but even that was the epitome of decadence as it was made from two rows of black opals, a stone prized among mages for its ability to hold and enhance magic. Each oval stone was polished to perfection, solid fire dancing from within the black depths.

He held his chin up, looking down at the gathering dignitaries with a cold fire that belied his carefully passive expression.

The delegation was called forward one-by-one to bow before the Emperor.

“Master Numair Salmalin, Chief Mage of Tortall,” said the herald and Numair stepped up to the formal position at the Emperor’s feet.

He bowed deeply and formally. “Your majesty.”

Ozorne smiled down at him victoriously. “Welcome Master Salmalin.”

Numair bowed his head in thanks, his expression carefully blank as he moved away from the dais and toward Alanna.

“Goddess be good, you couldn’t cut through that tension with a knife of honed steel,” she said, trying to lighten his mood. It was a useless endeavor as the herald introduced Daine.

“Veralidaine Sarrasri and the dragon Skysong!”

She stepped up to the dais and offered the Emperor a perfectly executed curtsey. “Your majesty.”

Kitten scurried up the platform until she could thoroughly examine the many jewels on the Emperor’s toes. Ozorne looked down at the dragon and his pompous air disappeared.

In that moment, the past and present collided as the emperor reached down to pet Kitten in much the same way his younger self had petted Preet, the bird so easily painted as just another tool with which to stab Numair in the heart.

“Well, hello, little one. It is a pleasure to have you here.”

Kitten chirped in greeting and whistled a short note, making the jewels at the Emperor’s feet glow as the magics within were revealed.

“How wondrous! Has she always been able to do that?” he asked, turning his easy smile on Daine.

She smiled back shakily, “No, your highness, she learned it from a basilisk we met last year.”

“Amazing, how were you able to capture her? A pit trap? A golden net?”

Daine frowned, “I don’t think you understand, your majesty. Her ma died when she was newly born. I take care of her.”

“I see, then we are honored to have the caretaker of such a creature in our presence. We sincerely hope that you’ll enjoy your stay in our glorious empire,” they were the most honest words Ozorne had spoken since their arrival in the throne room.

“Thank you, your majesty,” replied Daine and she curtsied again before scooping up Kitten and disappearing into the crowd of waiting ambassadors.

Ozorne watched her go but the moment she left his sight his mask of imperiousness returned and he stood.

“We welcome you all to the Glorious Empire of Carthak! We hope that the Gods bless our quest for everlasting PEACE!”

Among the cheers, came an echoing clap and the eastern and western walls of the hall slid into the floor, tripling the grandeur and revealing long tables set with a feast to rival any other. Ozorne sat back down, signaling for the festivities to begin. The people dispersed, breaking into groups to sample the generosity of their host.

Numair searched for Daine and found her collapsing into the deep cushions of an alcoved couch. He threaded through the crowd until he could sit beside her, reaching up to cup her cheek, “Are you alright? If you’re tired you can go to your room. There’s no need for you to stay.”

She shook her head and took a long, steadying breath. “I’m fine. It’s all just a little overwhelming. I don’t think I expected him to be so...nice.”

Numair frowned, his hand falling away from her in the same moment his shoulders slumped, “He isn’t a fairytale villain. Like any other man, he has admirable qualities. In fact, they are numerous. His generosity is boundless and his love for animals could rival your own.”

“I can see why you used to be friends.”

“Yes, well, that doesn’t mean you should let your guard down around him. He is a product of his upbringing and, as such, is just as cruel as he is generous.”

Daine placed her hand on his, “I know. Don’t worry about me. Not when you should be looking after yourself.”

“She’s right, you know,” said Lindhall, who had joined them with three cups of juice expertly balanced between two hands.

Numair pulled his hand away from hers, hiding his purposeful distance behind a flamboyant wave, “I’m sure the worst is over. Now I’m sure he’ll ignore me just as easily as the mountain ignores the wind.”

“Once a player, always a player,” Daine told Lindhall in mock exasperation, rolling her eyes for effect.

“He always was rather dramatic,” agreed Lindhall but his smile was tinged with concern, “Still, I believe a certain amount of seriousness is required. Ozorne was definitely not pleased to see you. Luckily, your student was able to end things on a good note.”

“It was Kitten mostly,” said Daine, blushing slightly.

“While Kitten is irresistibly adorable when she isn’t, say, playing chase with unwilling squirrels, you did very well, Daine,” said Numair, passing her a proud smile.

She ducked her head to hide her bashful smirk, “Thanks.”

“Arram!”

It had been a very long time since Numair had heard his given name spoken in that breathy tone.

“Varice?”

Descending upon him like a divine being called from the clouds, Varice’s cream-colored robe billowed around her like the wings of a heron as she swept across the room.

“Yes, little old Varice Kingsford. I’m surprised you still remember me.”

Drawn forward by nostalgia and yet indescribable feelings, Numair rose from the couch to meet her. Just as they had when he had still been a bookish fool and she the caring young woman who worried over his eating habits, he took each of her hands in his and brought them to his lips. She smelt like flour and vanilla, a scent that still made his heart race.

“Mithros bless, how could I forget? You’re even more lovely than I remember!”

Her smile turned flirtatious, “And you’re still irresistibly charming. Oh, Arram, I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you as well,” he replied easily, letting her pull him toward a different alcove, one that would shelter their reunion from the prying eyes of the world. “Really, you must tell me everything! Are you with the university? Are you married? Can I kill your husband?”

She laughed, “No, no, and I suppose that means the last answer would have to be a no as well.”

“Then what have you been doing all this time?”

“I’ve been here. You’ll never believe how much I’ve learned! I’ve met people from lands all over the world and discovered more about food and magic than I ever learned at the university!”

“You seem happy,” he remarked and she averted her eyes.

“I am,” she said, her voice and expression cheery.

It was a perfectly executed lie but Numair noticed the way her thin shoulders dropped ever so slightly. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied far too quickly but she caught herself, rose petal lips twisting into a regretful smile, “Well, I suppose I’m just sad that so much time has passed. I thought about following you when I heard you were serving the Tortallan king but I was afraid it was too late.”

Molten metal seemed to fill his veins as he looked at the woman he had once loved. He reached out and brushed his knuckles against her cheek, “I would have loved to have you with me, my dear, but all I wanted was your happiness. I’m glad you were able to find it here.”

“You were always the sweetest man in the world.”

Numair scoffed, pulling away from her as the distance of years settled between them, “Daine says I’m the silliest.”

“Then she knows you well,” Varice replied with a grin.

“Oh! I’m such an idiot! I should introduce you!” he said, already turning toward the alcove where he had left his magelet.

She was gone.

“She’s probably gone to bed,” said Varice, “I heard she had an exciting afternoon.”

He frowned, “I doubt she would just leave without telling me.”

“Maybe she just didn’t want to interrupt. If she knows you so well, she must know it has been a long time since we last saw each other.” There was a quiver to Varice’s voice, subtle and hidden behind a careful sweetness.

Numair looked to the throne.

Ozorne was watching the happenings around the room with boredom. He reached for a date and it magically leaped from the bowl and into his fingers, as if time had jumped ahead.

It was a simulacrum- a magical copy. Ozorne was gone.

Numair turned on Varice in an instant, “Where is Daine?”

Varice’s eyes went wide, “I’m sure she’s here somewhere. Really, Arram, you shouldn’t worry. She’s perfectly safe here at the palace.”

“You and I both know that isn’t true.”

It was then that Lindhall appeared, “Daine is on her way to the aviary with his majesty.”

Numair blanched.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” said Lindhall, his demeanor a mask of calm, “The Emperor would not be as foolish as to send for me if he was planning anything nefarious. Just let me handle this. There’s no need for you to rush off and draw attention to yourself. I won’t let any harm come to your student.”

Numair nodded, unable to put voice to his misgivings until Lindhall disappeared through the large doors.

“You lured me away from her on purpose.”

Varice sat completely still, staring down at her gracefully folded hands. “It wasn’t like that. He just worried about his birds. He-.”

“I can’t believe it! After everything that happened, you’re still defending him!”

“You turned your back on him!”

“Is that what he told you?” Numair asked, his tone dropping to a mere murmur. When she didn’t answer, he continued, speaking in a tone so low that she shouldn’t have been able to hear him, “I suppose it’s true. What crime could be greater than stopping him from killing ‘a piece of Sirajit scum’? A simple man down on his luck and turning to crime to feed his family? Who could ever forgive a friend who chose to save an assassin?”

“Arram, I-”

“My name is Numair now.”

Varice fell into herself, defeated by his harsh words, “Yes, how silly of me to have forgotten.”

In an impossibly graceful motion, she stood and walked away, looking like she had just been told that the latest court gossip rather than the story of how Ozorne and Numair had become enemies.

Standing, Numair left and went to his room, wishing for all the world that he was back in Tortall.


	4. In The Dark

Daine walked into the communal living area long after everyone else had gone to sleep, her eyelids and shoulders drooping in exhaustion. Colorful feathers peppered her hair and she was covered in the grime that went with healing sick animals.

“How did it go?” he asked her, keeping his voice cheerful.

She startled, apparently too tired to realize he was waiting for her, “Gods be good, Numair!”

“Forgive me, magelet. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What are you doing there?” she asked, still trying to calm her breathing.

“Well, you did disappear without a word.” 

His voice came out harsher than he had meant it to, drawing her ire. “I couldn’t find you after you’d disappeared with whats-her-name and what was I supposed to do? Say ‘no, sorry, I have to let those poor birds keep suffering because my idiot teacher disappeared’?”

Her logic was sound but that meant little to his worried mind, “You should have asked for an escort. That is your right as a foreign ambassador.”

“Lindhall was there,” she said, waving away his concern and raising her chin, “you’re the one who wasn’t in his head tonight. Who was that woman, anyway?”

“Varice Kingsford, she is an old friend of mine from our university days.”

His matter-of-fact tone seemed to ignite the full fury of her temper as she scoffed at him, “Of course! What else would she be? Just another old friend in a long list of old friends!”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

She threw her hands up in dismissal, “It doesn’t matter. I’m tired and need a bath. So, if you’ll excuse me.” She disappeared into her room and emerged a moment later with nightclothes and her bathing kit. 

Kitten, left in the common room by her mother’s blind rage, looked forlornly between Daine and Numair. 

Daine scowled down at the dragonet, “Are you coming or not?”

Kitten trotted over to Numair with her nose in the air. Curling up at his feet, she passed Daine a glower. 

“You’re welcome to each other,” Daine snapped and turned on her heel to storm out.

When the door closed behind her, Kitten whistled sadly. 

Numair scooped up the dragonet and set her in his lap, “She’s just tired from using her magic. I’m sure she’ll be in a better mood tomorrow. If you’d like, you can sleep in my room.”

Kitten looked up at him, chattering incessantly. “I’m sorry, little one. Dragonet is one language I’m not fluent in.”

Huffing at the futility of trying to communicate, she jumped from his lap and scurried into his room. Sighing, he followed her.

 

Despite his raging thoughts, Kitten’s soft snoring eventually lulled Numair to sleep. 

In his dreams, he was transported to the legendary Hall of Bones. He had been there many times before but, in the soft light of the waning moon, the hulking skeletons of long extinct giants were menacing.

“There are far too many thoughts in that head of yours, Arram. It’s a wonder you don’t get headaches.”

In the jaws of a tall carnivorous dinosaur, he found the Graveyard Hag looking down at him sternly. Her nobby legs hung between the creature’s large teeth, making her look like a poorly chewed meal.

“Why am I not surprised?” he asked miserably, “Whenever Carthak is involved, you never seem to be far away.”

“Don’t be so sour, boy, I’m only here to collect your debt.”

Numair frowned, “The secret?”

“Yep,” the goddess smiled evilly, revealing stained and gapped teeth, “You must not tell Daine about your plans. No clues to let her guess, no clever tricks. She must not know.”

“You can’t be serious. I have to tell her, otherwise, she’ll think-”

The hag hit her gnarled walking stick against the dinosaur’s teeth with a loud crack that reverberated down into his core, “Stop thinking so much and just listen for once in your damned life. If you tell her, you’ll do her no good. Keep this secret and everything will work out just fine.”

“So you’re telling me that if I keep this secret, she’ll be alright?” he asked, “That seems counterintuitive.”

The hag glowered at him, “Listen here, boy. I can’t say much, rules and free will and all that, but I can tell you that if you don’t keep this secret, things will not end well. For you or your precious student.”

“What will happen?”

A gnarled hand waved vaguely, “A number of things. The wheels are always turning.”

Numair eyed the goddess warily, “What do you hope to gain out of this?”

She rolled her eyes, “Your old friend Ozorne has landed himself on my uncle’s bad side and, because Carthak is my domain, I must take care of him. If you and that girl do what you’re supposed to, I’ll be able to wrap this up in time for supper.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Best odds? You’ll be dead and that girl will end up as Ozorne’s slave. Believe me, no one wants that.”

The Hag cackled when Numair visibly shuddered, “Have your attention now, don’t I?”

“Yes,” he replied quietly, “I will keep my plans from her if it will mean Daine can safely return to Tortall.”

The goddess vaulted over the dinosaur’s teeth to land in front of him with an ease outside the realm of human capability. “Now, you know I can’t make guarantees! That girl’s a mind of her own!”

“Don’t I know it,” he grumbled.

The hag clicked her tongue and smiled wistfully, “It’s wonderful, isn’t it? Exciting. But, I can assure you that the best odds come from your keeping your plans from her. That I can guarantee.”

Numair let out a long breath and nodded.

“Be careful, Arram. It may not seem like it but I like you,” she patted him on the chest and shrugged, “It seems handsome, clever, fools are my weakness.”

Numair awoke to the whistling of a small dragon. It sounded like tiny alarm bells in his ears, pulling him from the fog and into alertness.

The greying light of dawn touched his intruder’s golden hair, left to fall to her waist in a curtain of silk. 

“Varice?”

“Good morning,” she replied quietly as if she hadn't risked her safety by entering his room. Verbal lashing from Kitten notwithstanding. 

Numair placed a calming hand on the dragonet’s back, “It’s alright, little one, you can stop yelling.”

Kitten did as he asked, settling down in a tight circle but keeping a watchful eye on Varice.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Varice murmured, flicking her gaze up to look at Numair through her lashes, “I just, well, I couldn’t sleep.”

He swung his feet over the side of the bed, resting his forearms on his thighs, “Don’t worry about it. I was only dozing anyways.”

Kitten chirped at his lie but he shot her a quieting look. Varice followed his gaze back to the dragonet, trying to smile at her. “She is a pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

Kitten just glared, obviously determined to dislike the woman.

“Be nice,” Numair told her, “Or you can go to your mother’s room instead.”

Hissing with all the ferocity of her namesake, Kitten did just that but not before scurrying up the bed to snatch his pillow. Numair watched her go with a grumbled, half-joking threat to turn the pillow to stone. 

“Why was she in your room in the first place?” Varice asked a musical note of curiosity to her voice.

“Daine and I had a bit of an argument last night so Kitten and I decided she needed some time alone to cool off. Marmoset notwithstanding, though I didn’t notice him when Daine returned. Little thing was probably hidden under her hair again.”

Varice chuckled and averted her gaze, “You care about her a lot, don’t you?”

“Very much,” he admitted, the Graveyard Hag’s warnings still fresh in his mind.

Silence settled between them for a long time before Varice found the courage to speak again. “Arram, why did you leave me behind?”

He waved his hand idly as if the answer hadn’t settled around him like a thundercloud, “I wasn’t going to force you into a life on the run. I loved you more than that.”

“Loved?” she asked, emphasizing the past-tense.

He bowed his head, “Things have changed a lot since then.”

Varice turned away but her voice betrayed the fear she was trying to hide, “Not enough. Not nearly enough to save you.”

Raising his head, Numair reached out and captured her hand, pulling her back around to look at him, “I don’t need saving, Varice. I’ve become very good at taking care of myself.”

“Ozorne never forgave you,” she said, tears trickling from her shining blue eyes, “He’ll find a way to get to you and when he has you he’ll make you suffer. If I weren’t so afraid, I’d be able to stop him.”

“How?” he asked incredulously, “I couldn’t.”

“I’ve had dozens of opportunities, hundreds of times I should have stepped in but- Gods, I’m such a coward.”

He stood to cup her cheek, “Varice, I wouldn’t want you to move against Ozorne. Even to save my life. It isn’t who you are and you’d never be able to forgive yourself.”

She averted her gaze, “You are the only one who ever understood that.”

“I never wanted to be a great mage either, things just sort of worked out that way.”

She searched his features until she found the answer to the question that furrowed her brow, “And now you’re lonely.”

“Of my own volition, I assure you,” he said, pulling away from her, “I would rather be lonely than bring someone into my dangerous and chaotic world.”

“But what about Daine?” Varice asked quietly.

“If Ozorne so much as looks at her the wrong way I’ll raise this palace to the ground.” Numair didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until he heard Varice’s sharp intake of breath.

“Arram, I had no idea.”

“I’m an utter fool,” he said, falling back onto the bed and focusing his self-deprecating energy on tracing intricate patterns in the floor’s wood grain, “despite my efforts to the contrary and a large helping of moral guilt.”

Varice folded gracefully onto the bed beside him, sitting so close that their thighs touched. Reaching up, she lifted his face to hers and kissed him softly. 

He broke away from her, his brows lowered in confusion, “What are you doing?”

She smiled at him, her hand still on his face, “Making a promise.”

“What promise?”

“If anything happens to you, I will make sure Daine is safe.”

He pulled her hand from his cheek and stood, pacing away from her, “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering and I know you have better manners than to decline such a gracious offer. It would be rude.” Her words were spoken like a joke but there was a determination in the set of her shoulders. “It isn’t much, I know, but it’s a promise I can keep.”

Walking back toward her, he lifted her chin until she could see the affection in his eyes, “It’s more than I could ever expect from you. You’re an amazing woman with a heart far too big for this world.”

“So you’ve told me before.”

“And I meant it then as much as I do now.”

“I know,” she replied, her smile slowly dying away, “You’ve always been able to see the good in others. It’s what I love about you.”

His heart clenched at her use of the present-tense despite knowing he no longer reciprocated her feelings. That he never could again.

“I’m sorry...for everything.”

“Don’t apologize. I would rather love you knowing that you don’t feel the same than having never loved you at all.” Varice grimaced and shook her head, “Gods, that sounded like something out of a mummer’s monologue!”

Numair chuckled, “I was just about to ask what you were quoting.”

Standing, she clapped her hands together. A sign of work about to begin. “The emperor has invited the delegates to visit the menagerie this morning before the start of negotiations. I’ll see you there?”

He nodded and, with one last longing look, Varice scurried toward the door.

Numair almost wanted to call her back. To remember, just for one night, what it was like to be Arram Draper.


	5. Cages

Daine glared at him when he emerged from his room sometime later and Kitten stood on her hind legs for the express purpose of chirping angrily at him. Even the pygmy marmoset named Zek peaked out from his hiding spot beneath Daine’s hair to pass Numair a glare. 

If they were alone, Numair would have demanded to know what he had done to cause her wrath but they were not. Instead, he was left to suffer her ire as he sat across from her at the breakfast table. 

He didn’t even have a conversation companion to distracted him as Alanna sleepily drank tea, clammed up and trying to caffeinate herself to wakefulness, while both Gareths chatted idly about the day’s schedule, purposely ignoring Daine’s mood.

It was at the mention of the menagerie that Daine finally stopped being angry long enough to shoot Gareth an alarmed look, “A menagerie? Do I have to go?”

The elderly man nodded, taken aback by her change in mood, “The invitation was made with the sole purpose of thanking you for your work with the emperor's birds. Much to everyone’s delight, your ability to heal them all in a single session has meant that the Carthaki negotiators were far more accepting of our initial proposals than we believed they would be.”

“A single session?” Numair asked, concerned and impressed at the same time. Then she stifled a yawn and his concern won out. 

Sighing, he held out his hand to her but she glared at the offered appendage as if it were filthy. 

Rolling his eyes he met her scowl with one of his own, “Just give me your hand. We both know that you won’t make it through a visit to a menagerie as tired as you are.”

She huffed but did as he said, setting her palm in his. Closing his eyes, he let the glittering black magic flow from his core and into her. The copper light of her wild magic, previously subdued, sprung to life at the slightest touch from his gift and began to blaze. His own magic revealed in the connection, dancing merrily around their hands.

Someone cleared their throat and Numair snatched his hand away from her, immediately picking an assortment of fruit from the various trays to pile onto his plate. The sounds of breaking fast were the only things heard as tense silence filled the room.

A knock on the door swiftly ended the tension as a slave opened it to reveal Varice, dressed in the day’s finery and looking particularly cheerful.

“Are you all ready to go? We’ve got a wonderful tour planned!”

Everyone stood, filtering out the doors to join Varice and a far more simply dressed Kaddar.

“Good manners dictate that I shall be your escort, your excellency,” Varice told Gareth before turning to Numair with a mirthful smile, “But stay close, Master Salmalin, you know far more about the animals than I could ever hope to.”

He smiled at her, nodding his consent and acknowledging her use of his chosen name as proof of friendship.

“Lady Alanna, I would be honored to be your escort,” said Kaddar.

Alanna, being the tactical mind that she was, smiled warmly at the prince, “Oh, on such a fine day you shouldn’t be stuck with an old married woman like me! I’m sure you would enjoy Daine’s company far more.” Then, stopping any polite argument before it could even begin, purposely moved to Numair’s side and looped her arm through his.

Kaddar simply nodded and turned to Daine with a polite smile, “Then what do you say, Lady Daine?”

Daine gave him an awkward smile in return, “It’s just Daine, your highness, I’m no lady.”

“Much to the contrary,” said Kaddar as he held out his arm for her, “I heard what you did for my uncle’s birds. Titles aside, only someone with a noble heart would be as kind as you, my lady.”

Daine blushed and Numair opened his mouth to warn the young prince but was quickly silenced when Alanna elbowed him in the side. He passed her a glower and she mouthed him a reminder of the promise he had made on the border of Dunlath to refrain from interfering with Daine’s love life.

Even though he didn’t believe Kaddar qualified, Numair grumbled under his breath in reluctant agreeance.

Due to the connection that lingered from Numair’s bolstering of her magic, he felt a shift in the air as Daine purposely cut herself off from the animals around her. Numair had expected as much from a visit to the menagerie, though it was ultimately unnecessary as the animals seemed rather content within their vast enclosures which were designed with each animal’s natural habitat in mind.

“My uncle has made sure that all the animals here are provided the best comfort available,” said Kaddar when Daine commented that the lions didn’t even seem to notice they were caged.

As the morning went on, Daine began to let her guard down and greeted many of the animals. Yet, when they neared the bird cages, Numair felt her barriers return. No cage was big enough for the predatory birds that frequented menageries, the majestic animals were meant to be free.

“Perhaps we should bypass this section,” suggested Numair.

“No, it’s alright,” said Daine, reading his mind, “I’ve been offering all the animals dreams of home and I’d like to do the same for the birds. They’ll still know their caged but at least they can remember what it’s like to fly free again.”

Alanna’s eyebrows rose, “You can do that?”

Daine nodded sheepishly, “Though I wouldn’t have been able to if not for Numair.”

With a smile he accepted her pseudo-apology, “It was my pleasure, magelet.”

“Yes, well, I need a break,” said Duke Gareth, passing Varice an exaggeration of a tired smile, “I’m afraid I am not the spry man I used to be.”

“As you wish, your excellency,” replied Varice and led them toward a small set of benches under a shade tree.

Numair had been discussing the finer points of Old Thaki architecture with Alanna when he noticed Daine had left the nearby gorilla enclosure to start down a path that led away from the main walkway. She walked blindly as if she were being pulled away by an invisible tether.

“Go,” said Alanna, “I’ll make sure you’re not missed.”

He followed Diane into a cave-like structure that was dark but humid and found her standing before deep pit separated from the outside world by glass.

Daine watched with unblinking eyes as a set of three powerfully-built canines emerged from the shadows.

“Hyenas.”

Startled, she scurried away from the glass to look at him with wide eyes, pressing a hand to her sternum, “Hobs bobs, Numair! You should wear a bell!”

He chuckled, “Even if I were wearing one I doubt you would have heard me coming. You seemed enamored.”

She smiled at him softly, radiating with wonder, “They’re beautiful animals.”

“I’ve always thought so. They are savannah predators, like lions but far more clever.”

“But why are they separated from the others?” asked Daine, gesturing toward the small confines that lacked the comforts provided to the other animals.

Numair sighed, “When Ozorne was crowned, a servant of the gods foretold that he would be brought down by hyenas. From what I’ve been told, he then found every hyena in the empire and killed them. All except these. No one seems to know why.”

“‘Cause they’re sacred to the Graveyard Hag,” said Daine but her voice was unnervingly distant as if the knowledge hadn’t come from a book but was divined from the air.

“Yes,” Numair replied with a furrowed brow. He suddenly had the distinct feeling the sleep-interrupting goddess had something to do with Daine’s presence here.

“That’s sad ‘cause they really are wondrous but frightening too. The leader, she says a man visits them here sometimes,” Daine shivered, “they enjoy the smell of his fear.”

“Come,” he told her gently, ignoring the pang of concern that shot through his chest, “we should return to the others before we’re missed. Alanna is probably already running out of excuses.”

Daine blinked rapidly as if breaking from a trance, “Wait, Numair, I, well, I should apologize, I mean really apologize, for the things I said. And how angry I was this morning. I s’pose I was just tired.”

“No need, magelet. I wasn’t exactly being my normally logical self. I was very concerned when you disappeared.”

She toed the ground, her hands folded behind her back, “I know. I should have insisted on telling you where I was going. I was just really worried about the birds after the emperor started telling me how sick they were.”

Numair brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, “Well, I really should have guessed where you were. Mithros knows there isn’t a force on earth that could keep you from a sick animal.”

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t be dramatic.”

He placed a hand over his heart staggering backward as if she had stabbed him, “But, magelet! That’s like asking me to stop breathing!”

She laughed, “Oh, come on you silly man before-”

“You aren’t supposed to be in here,” said a dark voice. It was Kaddar, emerging from the shadows as if he were one, “My uncle doesn’t like people in this part of the menagerie.”

“We were just leaving,” Numair said calmly and offered Daine his arm. Daine accepted graciously, walking with him back toward the main path.

Kaddar hung back, staring at the hyenas with a strange expression, almost like he was looking at divine judgment first-hand

After visiting the aviary, the Tortallans were lead to the older part of the menagerie. Long since abandoned in favor of the more humane enclosures, the large iron gate was kept locked and had rusted due to poor maintenance.

Daine’s magic surge as she passed through the threshold, a spell settling over her like a net. It was a spell meant to trap. To imprison. To cage.

On either side of the sprawling stone walkway immortals were locked behind dilapidated steel; each one left in a state of hopelessness. Griffins kept their wings close to their bodies, undine stared up at the empty blue sky- their elemental hair laying around them like fallen leaves, and blue-skinned ogres gathered their legs to their chests to rock back and forth impotently.

Only the Stormwings remained optimistic, perched on rusted iron perches and watching their surroundings with interest. The female, with her dark-skinned torso blending into a mass of dull-looking but razor-sharp metal feathers, sat beside a male with translucent skin and silver hair. A crown of charred bone marked her as a queen and a bronze plaque named her as Barzha of the Stone Tree Nation. The same tribe that had allied itself with Carthak.

“Each immortal held here was captured after attacking the Carthaki people,” said Kaddar, his voice gruff and formal.

“I doubt that!” yelled Daine, her fists clenched at her sides as she trembled violently. 

Numair walked over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder but she shook it off. “Gods, look at that Griffin! He can barely spread his wings and undine? They’d never hurt anyone!”

“Daine,” he said, adding a bit of authority to his voice to break her from her ill-thought tirade. She snapped her mouth shut so hard her teeth clacked together.

“Forgive her, your highness,” said Gary who had come to stand at Numair’s side, “It is only Daine’s close relationship to animals that makes her loathe cages. Even when they hold creatures who are better off confined.”

“That’s understandable, I suppose,” said Kaddar, watching Daine warily.

Daine spun and marched away, pointedly refusing to apologize for her outburst.

“Will she be alright?” asked Kaddar as he watched her leave.

His own indignant anger taking hold, Numair gestured at their surroundings, “If you could feel the pain of every creature here, would you be alright?”

Kaddar looked at his feet, “No.”

Numair bent and pulled Kitten into his arms. The small dragon made no protest, hiding her face in his arm.

Turning on his heel, he followed Daine out with Alanna right behind him. 

As soon as Daine exited the old menagerie, an invisible weight was lifted from her shoulders and she let out a long-suffering breath.

Kitten whistled quietly, requesting comfort from her mother and Daine obliged, holding out her arms to the dragonet. She cuddled Kitten close, stroking her soothingly as they both tried to forget about their experience. Zek crawled from his hiding place to settle into the center of the coiled dragonet, stroking Kitten’s head with a tiny hand.

Unable to do more than offer their presence, Numair and Alanna took up a position on either side of Daine. They steered her back to the palace, solidarity settling around them like a wall meant to protect them from misplaced pity. They didn’t need sympathy, they needed to go home.

Once inside the common room, Daine finally spoke, “Numair, can I come to your room?”

“If you wish,” he said.

The female knight understood the subtext of Daine’s request, turning to Daine with a motherly smile. “Are you going to be alright?” Daine nodded mechanically. “Good, because I need a bath. I can still feel the grim of that place on my skin.”

After hugging Daine around the shoulders, Alanna disappeared into her room and Daine followed Numair into his. 

He closed the door behind her, watching her as she took a tailor's seat on the bed. She set Kitten and Zek in her lap, blinking back tears and exercising shaking hands.

“I wish I had my bow,” she said finally, her voice thick.

The statement would have seemed absent to most but it spoke volumes to Numair. He had seen her face down many horrors, far more than any seventeen-year-old should be able to lay claim to, but she had always stood self-assured with a bow in hand to protect herself. Here, in the shadowy world of politics, she was lost.

“Weapons aren’t allowed in the palace and with good reason. With your aim, magelet, I doubt the emperor would last long.”

She raised her head, relaxing incrementally under his decidedly dark humor, “I just don’t understand. Why would they show us that?”

“Everything we’ve been shown up to this point has been a display of power. The emperor doesn’t want a war, not really, he wants us to cower and willingly hand over everything we hold dear.”

The harshness of his words settled in the room like a thousand daggers poised to cut away everything they cared about.

“Things were simpler in Dunlath,” Daine whispered. 

Shoulders falling under the weight of her pain, he let his guilt consume him. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. It was stupid and selfish.”

“Don’t do that,” she said, moving a snoring Kitten and her self-appointed guardian Zek to the end of the bed, “Don’t put this on yourself. I wanted to come.”

He passed her a dark look, “Would you be here if I wasn’t?”

She turned her head away, “There’s still the emperor’s birds. It’s not their fault they’re loved by a dangerous man. They shouldn’t have to suffer for it.”

Something like frost spread across Numair’s skin and his magic reacted with it, dancing along his fingers in the promise of destruction. Still, he couldn’t find the will to pull it back. If she had known what those words would do to him, she might have chosen her phrasing with more care. Instead, they pierced his heart like one of her arrows. “But it’s alright if you suffer for it?”

Her head spun back to him so fast she should have gotten whiplash, “What?”

Numair couldn’t make himself explain. His heartbeat was too loud, his thoughts too manic, his stomach too knotted.

Thankfully, his magelet was an observant creature, “Never mind, I know what you mean but, well, do you remember the promise you made in Dunlath? That you’d be there whenever I needed you?”

He nodded.

“I promise the same. We’re pack, Numair, that means we look out for each other.”

He was afraid to answer, afraid of the way her assurances immediately calmed him. Of how much he really did need her by his side. When had he become such a useless idiot?

Numair sighed, letting go of all his misgivings in favor of putting the same faith in her that she had long since placed in him, “I’m supposed to be comforting you right now, not the other way around.”

She shrugged, “Making you feel better makes me feel better.”

“Yours is an easy nature.”

“And yours is a strange one but we already knew that.”

There was a knock on the door, “Numair? Daine? We’ve got to be at the opening banquet soon.”

“We’ll be right there,” Daine called and passed Numair a smile. She reached across the distance and took his hand, “Emperor Ozorne better be careful. My aim is just as good with peas as it is with arrows.”

Numair laughed, “I'm sure I wouldn’t want to face a barrage of perfectly aimed peas. What if one was undercooked! You could put out an eye!”

She laughed with him and it was a moment of contentment no one could steal from them. With their hands clasped, their magics rose up to twine together. They made no move to untangle it.

Let Ozorne play his games. Together, they could weather it all.


	6. Far From Divine

The banquet was a problem. The seating arrangements in the dining hall meant that Daine was much too far away for his liking. 

Then there was the fact that Varice had fallen into old habits. She had filled his plate herself, much in the same way she would when they were at the university. At one time, he had loved her motherly attitude toward those she cared about but at that moment he wished they hadn’t reconciled. She had stacked his plate with strong smelling delicacies that were all her own special twists on the cool afternoon foods preferred in the south. They made his stomach churn.

After sea travel he always stuck to lighter and bread-based foods that wouldn’t upend his digestive system. Yet it was a gesture done in kindness, something Varice did to prove they could be the friends they used to be, so simply telling her that the foods made him want to vomit wasn’t exactly something he was willing to do. Not when he needed every ally he had.

He was just about to force a spoonful of elephant ear soup down his throat when something touched his knee. A thin russet-colored canine, one of the palace rat catchers, was waiting expectantly.

Looking up and across the room, he found Daine’s grey-blue eyes smiling at him. He grinned back, bowing his head in gratitude.

Varice never even saw the food disappear. 

He hadn’t spent years as a player to have no knowledge of sleight of hand. In fact, he was an expert.

The situation made Daine’s insistence on being beside him less heartbreaking than his never-quiet mind made it seem. Love was more than a word spoken by mummers to indicate whirlwinds of passion. Love was trust, knowing that the person beside you would be there with a hungry canine whenever required.

Back in Tortall, he was sure he couldn’t love her more but now he knew that to be false. Even the distance he placed between them, so as not to twist their student-teacher relationship into something they both would regret, could temper the warmth between them. 

If she never developed romantic feelings for him, her selfless promise to be there for him was enough. It would always be enough.

“Numair! I was just about to look for you. How was your visit to the menagerie?” Numair was pulled from his thoughts by Lindhall’s easy tone but it was belied by the apology in his smile. Lindhall had known of the emperor’s plans to show them the immortals but had been unable to stop it. Numair understood, even if a warning wouldn’t have gone amiss.

Numair’s smile was belied by the knowledge in his eyes, “I saw your hand in many of the habitats there. Unfortunately, Daine’s distaste for cages got the better of her when we visited the section where the immortals are kept.”

“Daine seems alright now,” said Kaddar from Lindhall’s elbow. The prince glanced warily to the place where Daine sat with Kitten and Zek, merrily nibbling on different dishes and judging their taste with exaggerated expressions.

“I’m sure she would like to apologize for the way she spoke,” Numair told the prince, turning to capture Daine’s gaze across the room. With a look he pleaded with her to keep the peace, Kaddar was supposed to be her escort during their stay and keeping the peace would serve them far better than open disdain. No matter how much they disliked his pompous nature. She sighed and nodded her agreement.

Kaddar let out a long sigh of his own, “Then I suppose I should go graciously accept it.”

Lindhall patted the prince on the shoulder, “May I suggest inviting her to tour the university? It may serve as an excellent peace offering and she can meet all of my friends.”

“She would like that very much,” agreed Numair.

Kaddar nodded and trudged across the room. Numair and Lindhall watched as he settled into an empty seat beside Daine. At first, the two were awkward as Daine half-mumbled her apology and Kaddar accepted with far more impassive formality than was required. Then Kitten broke the tension by rudely scurrying onto the prince’s lap and letting out a short whistle that turned her half-invisible. Knowing how easily Kitten performed such simple magics, Numair saw the trick for what it was.

The dragonet really was too clever.

Turning away from the scene, Numair trained his easy smile on Lindhall, “I was hoping we could talk about the menagerie. There is a spell I helped develop to make the animals in Tortall’s menagerie more comfortable but it is rather complicated. It would take time to explain.” The words were spoken with a double meaning, Numair needed to speak to Lindhall about his debt to the Graveyard Hag because, given Daine’s earlier promise, he would be damned if he would put a plan into place that might hurt her. He would have to find a way to ensure he didn't fall to the Emperor's schemes while simultaneously ensuring Daine was not there to witness it.

Lindhall picked up the subtext easily, raising eyebrows slightly. “Interesting but I believe the negotiations are about to begin. Why don’t I find you later so that we can discuss it at length?”

“I’m looking forward to it,” said Numair, bowing his head respectfully to show that he understood Lindhall’s meaning. They were being watched far too closely to speak within the palace. Their only safe haven was the university, he would have to find Lindhall there later.

Lindhall frowned, “As am I.”

It was then that Daine and Kaddar joined them, both smiling easily as if they were old friends. Numair braced himself for the inevitable stab of jealousy at their newfound companionship but it never came.

“Numair?” Daine asked cheerily, “Do I need to attend the negotiations? Kaddar isn’t allowed to be there so he’s offered to take me to the archery range.”

“I think that would be a splendid idea,” said Lindhall, settling Numair’s suspicious thoughts before they could materialize.

Despite his first instinct to keep her close, Numair knew it was impossible. Not to mention that denying her the chance to find comfort in wasting arrows would be beyond selfish. “I’m sure they won’t miss you at the negotiations. They have trade discussions on the docket, which promises to be unbelievably boring.”

Daine scrunched up her nose in distaste, “If you’re worried about being bored than I’m glad to miss it.”

As if on cue, the gong signifying the end of the banquet rang across the hall.

“Ah, and that would be the sound of duty calling me to sleep-inducing oblivion. Have fun for the both of us, magelet.”

She chuckled, “I will.”

 

Numair was feeling drained after a long day of negotiations promised to turn into an even longer night at dinner. The political bootlicking at the negotiations had followed him into the great hall and every time he turned he was confronted by a new attempt at a backroom deal or alliance. 

Even more exhausting was trying to keep his thoughts focused on the frankly insulting conversations when his gaze kept drifting to Daine. Seeing her in a lavender Carthaki-style dress made from an expertly draped sheer fabric underlaid with a silk slip was almost more than his heart could bear.

Kaddar was her shadow, his easy smile and light expression displaying a new side to the young man than seen before. 

What was strange was Numair’s newfound view of the young man. Instead of seeing them deep in conversation or laughing at Kitten’s antics and feeling envious, he was glad for his magelet. Knowing how carefully Daine chose her friends, Numair was warming to the prince more and more with each moment.

When Numair could finally pull himself away to join them, Kaddar eyed Numair warily as if waiting for the mage to turn him into a frog. Apparently, Kaddar chose his friends just as carefully and Numair was not among the trusted.

“Did you have fun today?” Numair asked Daine, “Please tell me you did so that I might live vicariously through you.”

“I did,” Daine replied with a chuckle and Kaddar turned a playful glare on her.

“If fun is making me look like a fool.” 

At Numair’s questioning eyebrow, Daine explained, “Some of the young men training at the range were foolish enough to lay down a challenge and his highness was equally foolish in betting against me.”

Numair chuckled and passed Kaddar an apologetic expression, “Forgive me, your highness, but that was rather foolish.”

“I know that now,” Kaddar replied indignantly, “you might have warned me BEFORE I boasted of my man’s skill only to have him become the laughing stock of the range when she shattered every target we gave her.”

“And rob her of the chance to show off such amazing skill?”

Daine laughed and Kaddar seemed to relax significantly, laughing as well.

“How were the negotiations?” asked Daine.

Numair grimaced playfully, “Utterly boring. There are few things more irritating than winded speeches when there are real matters to discuss.”

“Tell me about it,” said Kaddar, absently passing Zek a grape, “Winded speeches seem to be all the Carthaki council is capable of. It doesn’t seem to matter how much the people suffer, as long as they get to take credit for the Zekoi still flowing or the sun still shining.”

Numair, a little shocked by Kaddar’s frankness, furrowed his brow, “I would be careful if I were you, your highness. I speak bluntly because there is very little that can be done against me once I leave. You must live here.”

Kaddar passed him a bored expression, “I’ll be sure to take your sage council under consideration, Master Numair. Though I believe the only person in more danger than myself is you.”

“And what’s that mean?” asked Daine.

Kaddar waved her concern away, “Master Salmalin knows what I speak of. Allow him to educate you about the finer points of what it means to be considered a traitor by the Emperor of Carthak.”

“I could explain in great detail about the fate of those who speak ill of the Great Empire of Carthak but I believe it’s unnecessary. Some mistakes are best not repeated.”

Kaddar froze, taken aback but Numair’s softly spoken warning. 

When the prince recovered, he bowed his head respectfully to the tall mage, “I understand you well, Master Numair.”

“I don’t speak to receive your understanding, prince,” said Numair, “I speak because I wish for the world to be a better place.”

“That is a very selfless wish but why would you count me as an ally in such an endeavor? You barely know me.”

Numair gestured in Daine’s direction, “Because I have never known Daine to be wrong about a person. If she counts you as a friend, then so do I.”

Daine smiled at Numair and Kaddar in turn, “I like to think you’re my friend. You know, when you’re not being a princely dolt.”

The prince laughed, “I feel the same, you know when you aren’t embarrassing me horribly.”

Numair smiled, “That’s good to hear. Everyone could use more friends.”

He made to stand but Daine caught his hand, stopping him, “Where are you going?”

Numair didn’t get to answer because the emperor stood, bringing the room to silence and all eyes to the dais.

“Friends of Carthak, we invite you to welcome a very special guest to our festivities!” said the emperor.

Two slaves emerged from hidden doors behind the throne to deposit bronze t-stands before the dais. The emperor clapped and yet more slaves moved to open the sliding doors that led to the balconies overlooking the gardens. There, perched on the balcony railings were two Stormwings.

“King Jokhun of the Stone Tree Nation and his advisor Lord Rikash!”

Startled, Daine said, “Hobs bobs! Rikash?” before she could think better of it.

“You know him?” asked Kaddar, surprised.

Daine nodded, her eyes never leaving the Stormwing, “We’ve met. Last time I saw him, I had an arrow trained on him.”

That was the last clue Numair needed to put together the puzzle of who Rikash was. He had been in charge of the Stormwings deployed to Dunlath to support the coup there. Though Numair had been separated from Daine during her time trapped in the valley, she had told him the story of the Stormwing who had made her rethink her dislike of his kind. 

Rikash seemed like the reasonable sort but he was bound by Stormwing law to the king of the Stone Tree nation and, according to Daine, that was not an oath that was easily broken. Stormwings had their own magic that bound them to their tribe. Disobeying an order from a tribal leader was so painful that most didn’t bother trying.

“Well, you might want to keep that fact to yourself,” said Kaddar, “My uncle allied with the Stormwings a year ago in order to protect the people from attacks.”

Daine’s eyes narrowed on Kaddar, “Then I wonder if Rikash knows that your uncle is keeping a Stormwing queen in his menagerie.”

Shocked by her tone, Numair’s turned chiding, “The prince is right, Daine. Best be careful how you speak about the emperor’s allies. To assume they are ignorant, would be foolish.”

She turned an impish smile on him, “I wonder if Lord Rikash will remember me? Come on, Kit. Let’s go visit our old friend.”

Before Numair could think to stop her, she was already pushing her way through the crowd. 

Cursing under his breath, Numair followed- leaving a stunned Kaddar and Zek in his wake.

As soon as Rikash caught sight of Daine approaching, he shook his head, sending the bones braided in his hair to clacking. 

Daine stopped and turned back to Numair. “Rikash won’t be able to talk for a bit so he wants me to go to the balcony and wait.”

“Mind telling me how you know that?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“Oh!” she said, just remembering, “He can talk to me mind-to-mind. He says he learned how to do it from a mutual friend of ours but wouldn’t tell me who. I think it was the badger.”

His frown deepened, “This is a bad idea, Daine.”

She shrugged and started toward the balconies. With a long-suffering sigh, he followed her again. Her stubbornness was going to be the end of him, he just knew it.

Once they were outside, Daine picked up Kitten and set her on the railing before setting her forearms around the dragonet. Below the balcony, the moonlight turned the perfectly manicured bushes and flowers into treasure and the marble statues into living beings.

Resigned to the fact that nothing could deter his magelet once she had set her mind to something, he went to her side.

Daine scooted toward him, standing close enough that their shoulders touched. Even that small amount of contact was enough to set him at ease.

“So, how long do you think it’ll be before Kaddar overthrows his uncle?”

Numair’s head spun toward her so fast the vertebrae in his neck popped.

She tried and failed to stifle a giggle, “My gods! You look like a deer caught on a mountain trail!”

“Yes, very amusing, magelet,” he replied dully, having recovered enough to glower at her but the expression was short-lived, turning into a smile the longer he looked at her. The moonlight caught in her eyes, turning them to pure silver and his heart to lava. “To answer your question, too long. He’s a clever young man but it would take something special to make him act. He doesn’t want to be Emperor, he just wants to be Kaddar.”

“I think you’re right,” she replied with a wistful note to her voice, “What do you think it’ll take?”

“I couldn’t really say.”

She cut her eyes at him, “If those ridiculous fairy tales you like are to be believed, love would be enough. Perhaps we should help him find someone? He deserves to be truly happy and that won’t happen as long as he’s the prince.”

“Who did you have in mind?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. Probably one of those swooning princesses from the stories.”

“I don’t know. He seems to like young ladies with spirit.”

She smirked at him, though it was forced. “Well if you’re planning to marry me off, you can think again. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

His chuckle was equally forced, “I wouldn’t dream of it, magelet.”

The sound of clicking metal feathers alerted them that they were no longer alone. Rikash appeared, perched on a brass cart pushed by a slave. The Stormwing turned to his barer and told him, “Leave us.”

The slave bowed and backed away.

Rikash sneered as he looked over Daine, Kitten, and Numair in turn, “You three look awfully cozy. How sickening.”

Daine passed the Stormwing a wolfish grin, “Says the one who saved a wolf cub.” In a heartbeat, her expression changed, becoming grateful, “Silly was sad you didn’t say goodbye.”

“I wanted to kill you, not the cub, letting him die to reach that goal would have been an awful waste of life.”

“True,” Daine replied, completely unaffected by the malice in Rikash’s words.

Rikash raised his nose in comical pompousness, “While I would relish reminiscing about missed opportunities, I would very much wish to know why you’re here.”

Daine shrugged, “Tortall and Carthak are negotiating a peace treaty.”

“Surely you know what a waste of time that is? If you were smart, you would leave before things get bad.”

“Bad in what way?” Numair asked.

Rikash glared at him, “You mean you don’t know? I thought you were supposed to be clever?”

The words, spoken with a familiar inflection, meant far more than made Numair comfortable. Rikash had obviously spoken to the Graveyard Hag and knew about her plans for Carthak. How much? Numair would very much like to know but when he opened his mouth to ask, he felt a slight pressure against his throat, not enough to choke him but enough to let him know that the Hag was watching.

A dark smile flashed across Rikash’s face before he turned back to Daine, “I doubt the Badger would be very happy to see you here.”

“I want to be here about as badly as you wanted to be in Dunlath. I’m here because I have to be.” She glanced at Numair, “To protect my home.”

“That’s disgusting,” drawled Rikash, scrunching his nose for effect, “I swear, everytime we talk I want to kill you more.”

“The feeling is mutual, believe me,” said Daine, crossing her arms in a show of apathy.

“Then why did you want to talk to me? Surely it wasn’t just to trade insults? Or are you really that bored?”

Daine rolled her eyes, “I just wondered if you knew about the Stormwing queen being kept in Ozorne’s menagerie.”

“You’re mistaken, there are no queens missing from any of the nations.”

“Are you sure?” asked Numair, mimicking a thoughtful tone, “I was sure the plaque on the cage named her as QUEEN Barzha.”

Rikash glared in Numair’s direction but the expression wasn’t meant for the mage, “What was that name?”

“Barzha,” Daine said, drawing Rikash’s attention back to her, “Don’t pretend you didn’t hear him.”

“If that’s true, then I might just have to spare your life a second-time shapeshifter,” said Rikash.

Shrugging, Daine gestured in the direction of the menagerie, “Go see for yourself, but you might want to be careful. I think there’s a spell over the cages.”

“Don’t pretend you care,” said Rikash as he flapped his great wings and flew off into the night.

“You make the strangest friends,” Numair remarked once he was sure the Stormwing wasn’t coming back for a while.

Daine chuckled, “And what does that say about you?”

He smirked, “Nothing everyone didn’t already know.”

 

Daine’s schemes did not bear fruit until much later that night. 

Just as the banquet was winding down and most of the courtiers had gone to bed, Rikash landed on his abandoned cart and a slave immediately bore him back into the great hall so that he could move to the more formal perch below the dais.

“Lord Rikash,” said the emperor with a distinct note of boredom, “We’ve missed you. If you are looking for your king, he left some time ago.”

“I’m aware,” replied Rikash, his voice filled with disdain that trickled off the emperor like water from duck feathers, “I was retrieving a gift for you.”

Rikash waved to Daine, who was seated between Numair and Kaddar on one of the alcove couches, “You. Girl.”

Daine stood, eyeing the stormwing warily, “Me, Lord Rikash?”

The Stormwing rolled his eyes, “Oh, don’t pretend. The emperor knows we’ve met and I doubt your reputation is so fine you can’t be seen to know a Stormwing.”

Daine pointed a glare at Rikash but he seemed just as unaffected as the emperor was. Still, she walked forward.

“No, don’t come here, you idiot. Out on the balcony is a Stormwing feather. Bring it here.”

Daine did as he asked, returning to Rikash’s side with a dull Stormwing feather held carefully between her fingers. 

Rikash motioned toward Ozorne with his wing, “If it pleases his majesty, would you accept this gift from the Stone Tree Nation?”

Ozorne took the feather and examined it closely, “We accept this gift gratefully, Lord Rikash.”

“As we hoped you would. Should you or your empire ever be in peril than you need only to pierce your flesh with this feather and you’ll be saved by Stormwing magic.”

“Our empire is prospering,” Ozorne assured everyone who might be listening, “but we recognize the value in what you have given us.”

Nodding curtly, Rikash lifted off and once more disappeared into the night.

Once he was gone, Ozorne looked up to smile at Daine, “Thank you for your assistance, Veralidaine. We apologize for Lord Rikash’s rude manner but little can be done for poor manners of Stormwings.”

“Of that, I’m well aware, your majesty, so there’s nothing to apologize for.”

With a curtsey, she turned and left the hall, Kitten following her out shortly after with Zek riding on her back.

“What do you think all that was about?” asked Kaddar.

“I wish I knew,” said Numair, standing. “Excuse me, your majesty. I think it’s time to call it a night.”

Kaddar nodded, brow still furrowed in confusion.


	7. Alone With You

When Numair opened his own door he found Daine was sitting on his bed, with Kitten and Zek sleeping in the chair. There were no lights save for the moonlight that filtered through the open window, casting her in silver and shadow.

Quietly, he closed the door behind him, “I believe you might be in the wrong room.”

“Really? Must have gotten turned around.” White teeth flashed in the darkness, “I know it’s improper to be in here at night but if you’re worried someone saw me, they didn’t. Not unless they were looking for a mouse. It meant I had to borrow one of your shirts but you’re so dratted tall, it's like a nightdress anyways.”

He purposely looked to the floor, trying to stay ambivalent while his palms itched, “That is very, uh, practical of you, magelet, but was there a reason you needed to be here at this hour?” 

The silver halo cast around her thin shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, “When I left the great hall I thought I wanted to be alone. I changed my mind.”

Darkness undercut the steadiness of her voice, filling Numair with concern. He moved to sit beside her and, being closer, he could see the way she gripped the badger claw at her throat. He reached up and carefully pulled her hand away from the talisman, trying to set her at ease. “Be honest, magelet. Why are you really here?”

She pulled away from him, gathering her legs to her chest, “I’m a little angry at Rikash for making me get that feather, for making me part of his schemes. I don’t know what it all meant but he was basically yelling at me with his mind-voice about finding Queen Barzah in the menagerie. That feather was not the gift Rikash said it was.”

“I did try to warn you not to get involved,” he replied, injecting humor into his words.

Daine scoffed, “You think I’d be better at listening to you by now.”

With a slow and careful touch, he brushed away the curls that had fallen across her shoulder. “If you started actually listening to my warnings I’d start to wonder who had stolen your mind.”

His words had the desired effect, drawing a chuckle from her. She unfurled like a flower bud in spring, leaning into the hand that lingered near her cheek. “Thanks, Numair. You always know how to make me smile. Even when I feel like tearing down the walls.”

“Glad to be of service, magelet, but, that being said, you shouldn’t be here,” Numair gestured toward his shirt, “Not...like this.”

She tilted her head back to look up at him and the moonlight cut across her gentle face, catching in her wide eyes and making them glow like polished diamonds. 

“Why not? I’ve been around you in less, or do I really have to remind you of when I changed into a deer and those hunters found me?”

“That was a very different situation,” he replied, working to keep his voice even, “If anyone saw you like this...well, it would raise a lot of questions.”

“Then lock the door,” she told him in that easy practical way of hers that he normally admired but was becoming increasingly frustrated by.

He cleared his throat and tried, almost successfully, to make his tone authoritarian, “Is there a particular reason why you’re arguing with me?”

She pulled away from him, thankfully putting some distance between them. He was sure that his heart was going to crack his sternum it was beating so hard. “My bed is cold. I’m used to having my friends crawl in with me during the night but here they don’t because, well, there aren’t a lot of wild animals around here. They’re all pets and working animals. Kitten and Zek try but it’s not enough and it makes it hard to sleep. Can I- Can I sleep here?”

Numair’s breath hitched as her words settled on him like a cloak made of fire. He turned away from her, trying to hide just how much he wanted to give in, to have her warmth beside him in a room that felt like a prison, but the logical part of him screamed that he had to control himself. “I don’t think that is a good idea.”

“Why not?” The hurt conveyed by her words was like a knife into his heart. 

“Because you’re my student. Morally grey is putting it lightly.”

“You haven't been my teacher since Dunlath.”

The memory flitted through his mind as vivid as if he had traveled back in time. The chill of the cave contrasting with the warmth of the wolves she called family. The force of their magic, intertwining without their permission and the resulting connection that made him lose control every time she blindly called out to the natural world around her.

“We’re pack now.”

“I know but that is not something that is easily defined in human terms. Outside the animal kingdom, you are my student and I am your teacher.”

“Please?” she whispered the word but it was filled with so much vulnerability that he knew he couldn’t deny her.

With a deep sigh, he reached out with his magic and locked the door.

“Thank you, Numair.”

He gestured toward the far side of the bed and she curled up beneath the blankets. He took off his mage’s robe but left his day clothes on as he crawled in beside her.

Numair tried to keep a certain amount of distance between them but it was a useless endeavor because as soon as Daine fell asleep, she snuggled up next to him and he couldn’t bring himself to move away. Despite his misgivings, he was never more at ease than with her gentle warmth beside him.

As they slept, their magics rose from them and merged into a single entity. It settled over them like a second blanket of sparkling dark copper.

The image turned watery as, somewhere in the divine realms, a green-veiled goddess smiled.

 

When he awoke the next morning, the shirt Daine had been wearing was neatly folded on the desk chair and the was door slightly ajar.

A smile ghosted across his mouth at the knowledge that only Daine would be so practical to return to her own room sometime during the early morning but he felt a new sort of emptiness without her laying beside him. Like part of him was missing.

His gift, on the other hand, was purring like a contented cat, energized by the nearness of her wild magic but not the raging beast it normally was. 

Stretching the last of the sleep from his limbs, he slid out of bed and closed the door so he could dress in fresh clothes. 

In the common room, Alanna was already awake and grumpily sipping at morning tea.

When she caught sight of him, she glared. “What gives you the right to look so damn happy this early?”

“Nothing specific,” he replied easily, settling down at the table.

“It’s not natural,” Alanna grumbled.

The door to Daine’s room opened and Numair looked up from making himself some tea, his heart already racing but Daine didn’t emerge. Instead, Kitten and Zek scurried out to sample that morning’s offerings.

“Is Daine asleep?” he asked the dragonet, confused.

Kitten shook her head and waved toward the door that led to the rest of the palace.

Numair frowned, “Where did she go?”

Kitten shrugged.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

Kitten narrowed eyes on him and clicked her teeth petulantly. Numair sighed and passed the dragonet a piece of honeydew, which had seemed to be her new favorite.

“Sorry, little one, I just don’t like the idea of her wandering the palace alone.”

The dragon purred in forgiveness and chomped at her melon happily. Alanna was not so easily fooled.

“I’m sure she’s just at the bathhouse. In fact, I think a nice hot bath is just the thing to-”

Numair froze as his magic unwillingly leaped to his fingers. He could feel wild magic seeping into the air around him as if Daine were calling out to the animals from right beside him.

“Numair? What is it?”

He frowned at Alanna’s question, “Her magic, I can feel it.”

“You think she’s in trouble?” she asked, all sleepiness banished in the face of potential danger.

“I don’t know,” he replied, aware that his voice shook.

Alanna shot to her feet, “I’ll check the baths.”

His head bobbed as if it were on an over-oiled hinge, “I’ll check all the usual places.”

“Usual places?” asked Alanna, her call to action making her deductive ability slow.

“Wherever you find animals, that's usually where you find Diane.”

Alanna rolled her eyes, “Of course. I knew that. In that case, you might want to start in the Emperor’s aviary. Goddess knows Diane’s been worrying over those birds constantly since she arrived.”

Nodding, even as a chill ran down his spine, Numair went directly to the aviary.

Her magic grew stronger with every step he took toward the frosted glass doors, all but confirming his fears. Then the door opened and Ozorne stood in the threshold, filling Numair with terror.

“What are you doing here?” the emperor asked with a scowl.

Though it irked him, Numair bowed formally. “I was looking for Diane. Someone told me she might be in the aviary.”

The Emperor shrugged as if it were of no consequence, “She is not here but feel free to come see for yourself.”

Ozorne turned and walked back into the aviary with his nose in the air. 

On the other side of the doors, wild magic washed over Numair as freshly healed birds emerged from within a veritable forest of tall tropical trees to greet Ozorne. A glass ceiling, held up by intricate vines of green-enameled metal, let early morning sunlight filter through the dense foliage to paint the room in patterns of shade. Frescos of jungle scenes adorned the rounded wall, blending with the plants further into the enclosure. Everything found in the perfect aviary was there except Daine.

“As you can see, she is not here,” said Ozorne, holding out his arms to indicate the entirety of the aviary. “We wish she was so she can see how our birds have improved. We could never repay her for the service she has done but we will try.”

“She requires no reward, your imperial majesty. She’s fine as she is.” As soon as the words slid between his gritted teeth, Numair knew they had been a mistake as his friend Ozorne became buried beneath the Emperor’s sly smile.

“Such heat, Arram,” the emperor said, punctuating his statement with a chiding click of his tongue, “Why concern yourself with her affairs? Why shouldn’t she be given a refuge within our empire? A title and land to call her own?”

Numair could feel his blood pressure rising at the suggestion that his separation from Daine was inevitable. That he was a monster to run from.

“She is my student, not that I would expect you to understand. Once you became Emperor, you decided you no longer required human bonds. All you needed was power.”

“I see,” Ozorne drawled, “Tell me, does she allow you to build your human bonds in the traditional fashion or does she prefer it from behind like her animal friends?”

The look in Ozorne’s eyes made Numair’s rage boil over, one that promised the emperor would learn the answer to his question one way or another.

Numair lashed out, his fist coming into contact with Ozorne’s magical shield. It burned his hand but he wouldn’t let it affect him. Instead, he pinned Ozorne with a glare that should have set the emperor on fire. He had given away the game with that shield, the one that had obviously been cast before Numair arrived.

“If you harm her in any way, it’ll be the last mistake you ever make.”

Ozorne smiled darkly, “I don’t make mistakes.”

The birds being sick was not a mistake.

Blanching, Numair watched Ozorne stalk out of the aviary, moving with the confidence of a man who had just executed a checkmate. 

Numair cursed the moment the doors closed. Gods damn him, he’d played right into Ozorne’s hands. He was such an idiot! One might think that after all he’d been through, he would have learned!

“Numair?”

At Daine’s voice, he spun to find her standing behind him. She looked as she normally did, her curls and clothes mussed by animals. There were even feathers still in her hair. What was strange was her wide eyes and white-knuckled fists. 

Unable to help himself, he pulled her into his arms. He didn’t realize he was crushing her until she squeaked and instantly let her go, holding her at arm’s length.

“Mithros, Minos, and Shaketh, Daine! Where were you?”

“The birds called me this morning. Some of them are sick again. I wanted to know the cause so I changed into a sparrow and-” She started trembling.

Numair let out a long breath and gathered her to him again.

“Come,” he whispered gently, “we can talk in my room.”

She nodded against his chest and he let her go long enough to walk back to the Tortallian delegation’s common room. 

Alanna was waiting for him when they arrived and the moment her gaze settled on Daine, she frowned in concern.

“Daine? Are you alright?”

“Fine, sorry if I made you worry,” she explained, her voice tense and swift, “I paid a pre-dawn visit to the aviary to check on the birds.”

It was a half-lie but both Alanna and Numair would be damned before they called her out on it. Not with the way she shook.

“Diane?” Numair said softly, “You said you needed to speak with me about whatever was making the birds sick? Come, we’ll speak in my room.”

She nodded far too vehemently for comfort and mechanically started toward his door. Alanna caught his arm before he could follow her, her voice dropping to a barely audible whisper.

“You’ll tell me what happened later,” it wasn’t a question.

He nodded and she let him go.

His hand lingered on the doorknob after he closed it, unable to turn around and face the fear in her eyes once more. “What happened?”

“Why did you try to hit him?” she blurted.

He froze, appearing for all the world like a child who had been caught stealing sweets from the kitchen.

“I saw the whole thing,” she explained in a rush, “Why would you do something so foolish?”

He couldn’t find it within himself to answer. To admit that he’d put her in even more danger.

“He hates you, don’t you see that?” she said past the thickness of her throat, “He’ll kill you if he gets the chance.”

“Don’t worry about me, magelet,” he whispered, “I can handle Ozorne and his games.”

“You don’t understand!” she yelled but just as quickly as her anger had come, it vanished. “He had an image of you. Like a tiny copy. He crushed it in his hands and it screamed. The birds didn’t even notice it. They said he does it all the time. Gods! It sounded just like you!”

Feeling like the biggest dolt in the world, he finally turned toward her. She was sitting on his bed, hugging herself as tears streamed from her closed eyes.

Falling to his knees in front of her, he reached up and cupped her cheek, trying to put her at ease. When she opened her eyes, he knew he had failed.

“I can still hear it,” she murmured as new tears fell down her cheeks. 

“It wasn’t real.”

“I know.” Daine took a shaky breath and hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes, banishing her fear. The innate stubbornness that separated her from any other person in the world took hold and stilled her quivering chin.

Sighing away his own residual fear and pain, he smoothed her wild curls away from her face, “I’ll need to go to the negotiations soon but you should get some rest. You look exhausted.”

“Can I stay in here?” she asked. The plea in her voice was unbearable.

He nodded, “If that will put you at ease, I don’t see why not.”

“It would.”

“Alright,” he said and got to his feet, turning to leave but before he could she grabbed his hand.

“Be careful, alright?”

He pasted on a smile and bent down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head, “Always, magelet.”

Leaving her, he returned to the common room where Alanna was still waiting, “She’ll be alright?”

“I hope so.”

“And you?”

“Just worried,” he replied in a half-truth. He didn’t feel like explaining how Daine’s fears, and his own guilt, weighed on him.

Alanna came to clap him on the shoulder, “She’s a strong girl. I’m sure she’ll be fine. What happened?”

Numair replied through gritted teeth, “Ozorne didn't know Daine was in the aviary and made some demonstrations of his continued hatred for me. She found them rather frightening.”

Alanna’s eyes widened, “Oh, no. I know that tone. What did you do?”

“Nothing of consequence,” he grumbled, “but as soon as I can arrange it, Daine is leaving. I refuse to make her stay in this damned country any longer.”

Alanna sighed, “We both know you don’t mean that. Her leaving now would be a great insult to the Emperor and would guarantee that the peace accords never go through.”

“I don’t care!” snapped Numair but the knight stood her ground. 

“Well, I do,” she said quietly, “I’d rather live in tenuous peace than die in a war.”

Numair gaped at the woman. She knew it was a low blow but she also knew it was exactly what he needed to hear, that hard truth that reminded him that more lives were at stake than just his. The lanky mage had let his passions overrule his logic. Again.

His shoulders fell under the weight of his idiocy, “I’m sorry, Alanna. You’re right. I don’t really mean it.”

She echoed his sigh back at him, “I’m sorry too. It was harsh of me to say something like that. I’m just on edge. This entire place grates on my nerves.”

“You and me both.”

Kitten whistled softly from the threshold to Daine’s room, Zek sitting beside her.

“She’s in my room trying to get some rest,” he told the dragonet, leading her toward his door, “Keep an eye on her, will you? I’m afraid she might have overdone it.”

The little dragon nodded and Numair opened the door just enough to let Kitten gallop in. Zek did not follow, climbing up Numair’s leg to perch on his shoulder instead.

Despite his mood, he smiled at the marmoset, “I suppose you’ll be my companion today?”

The little monkey nodded.

Just then, the bell signaling the beginning of the negotiations sounded and Numair let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Into the fray,” he grumbled.

Alanna strode toward him, linking his arm with hers, “Oh, come, you fool. It isn’t that bad.”

“You told me that you would rather face a K’miri charge on foot than listen to another argument about fishing rights,” Numair replied flatly.

She smirked, “Like I said, not that bad.”

Zek leaped from Numair’s shoulder to Alanna’s. “Apparently Zek agrees.”

“Either that or he just enjoys the company of optimists.”

Zek nodded and they both couldn’t help but chuckle.


	8. Tassen and Teeth

Between the negotiations and that night’s banquet, Numair slipped into the kitchens. He had spent most of the talks dwelling on the fear he had seen in Daine’s eyes and knew he couldn’t be the cause of that again. He had to speak to Lindhall and one of the only ways to do so would be at the university. Luckily, there was a slave tunnel that ran from the kitchens and into the garden. There he would be able to change into hawk-form without being seen and fly to the university without incident.

Unfortunately, Varice was in the kitchens and spotted him quickly.

“Numair? What are you doing here?”

Stifling a curse, he pasted on a smile and made a show of moving to her side, “I was curious to know if Daine had requested anything to eat today. I’m afraid she might have exhausted herself ensuring the emperor’s birds were well and slept through lunch but well, she knows how I worry, she might not tell me the truth if I just asked her.”

It was only a half-lie but a slightly obvious one to anyone who knew Daine.

Varice smiled at him, “You’re sweet. I heard she wasn’t well and had some soup sent there around lunchtime. The bowl came back empty so I assume she ate it.”

“Thank you,” Numair said and peered into one of the boiling pots, “What are you making?”

She shrugged, “Nothing in particular. The prep work for the banquet was finished hours ago.”

“Ah, then you’re stress cooking.”

Frowning at him, Varice put her hands on her hips, leaving marks of flour on her simple cotton dress, “I don’t do that.”

He scoffed, “Finals. Every semester. Baskets of sweets left in my room by the dozens. Gods, and when you went for your mastery? Let’s just say it’s amazing that I’m not the size of a house.”

“You didn’t complain at the time,” she said, falsely offended.

“What did I have to complain about? I ate better than anyone else at the university!”

She laughed but the sound quickly died. Busying her hands with some dough, she said, “If you want to use the tunnels, you don’t have to worry about me. Though I did enjoy our conversation.”

Numair smiled, “Saw right through me, did you?”

Cutting her eyes at him, she smiled ruefully, “You’ve always been a terrible liar.”

“So I’ve been told. That’s why I usually don’t engage in it.”

Looking up suddenly, she let out an, “Oh!” and rushed off toward one of the pantries. She returned a moment later with a napkin-covered plate. “I made these for you. I meant to bring them to your room but I’ve been rather busy.”

Curious, he lifted the napkin and found a small pile of three-cornered pastries called Tassen. They were a food that he and Varice had often shared alone as Ozorne refused to entertain the idea that any recipe created by the Sirajit had merritt.

He gaped at her, “Varice- I-”

She waved away his incomplete words with a grin, “I remembered they were one of your favorites.”

“Thank you,” he said, touched.

“You are most welcome,” she said and took the plate from him, carefully covering it back up again, “I’ll have them here for you whenever you’ve finished what you are doing.”

“Whatever did I do to deserve a friend like you?” he asked, a note of legitimate curiosity to his voice.

“I have no idea,” she joked.

Chuckling, he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, “I’ll be back to collect them shortly.”

“Make it quick, sir, or you’ll spoil your appetite for dinner.”

“And that would be an utter tragedy.”

Ducking into the large cold-pantry used to store foods with a tendency to spoil quickly, he found the door to the cellar and descended into the tunnels. Following the crudely drawn directional symbols, he followed the dark stone passages toward the garden.

Instead, he emerged through a trap door into the Hall of Bones.

“You aren’t the one I was looking for but welcome either way.” 

Numair was sure he was sleeping when he heard that familiar voice but something told him he wasn’t. The Graveyard Hag sat atop a rather vicious-looking three-horned dinosaur, grinning widely but he wasn’t in the mood to share her mirth. 

Noticing his sour mood, she cackled. “You’re a serious one today.”

“I’m tired of these games,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to someone.”

That brought a frown to the hag’s face, “You mean your friend Lindhall? Surely you know that I wouldn’t allow you to interfere with my plans by doing such a foolish thing. Or have you already forgotten my warnings?”

“Hardly, but I won’t let Daine be caught in the middle of your fight with Ozorne.”

He was surprised at himself. When had he grown so bold? This was a goddess he was snapping at, not some page.

The hag leaped down from her perch, unnaturally graceful given her gnarled joints and bowed back. She came within inches of him, the depths of her pupils alight with anger. Then, just as quickly as the fire shown, it burned out. The old woman’s eyes widened, then she threw her head back and cackled, “Silly, boy. For all your learning, you can be so thick. I’m surprised it took you this long to figure it out! Look at you! You’re so deeply entwined, you’re practically glowing! Oh, things just got so much more interesting!”

He tensed, “What are you talking about?”

Her frown was rueful, “What did I tell you about playing dumb? You can’t pull it off so stop trying. Oh, I have to tell Weiryn! He’s gonna go mad!”

She disappeared, leaving him alone in the middle of the Hall of Bones. 

Sighing at the goddess’ antics, he looked up at the great three-horned skeleton in front of him. Something he couldn’t explain compelled him to touch the great beast’s neck frill and it came alive in his mind’s eyes. 

The magnificent creature looked deadly and yet kind. A protector among terrifying beasts.

Without words, he came to understand the three-horn perfectly as it promised him that Daine would be safe.

Knowing that the goddess had been serious about her words, he had to accept this small piece of hope. All other avenues were closed to him.

 

Instead of going through the kitchens, Numair followed the slave tunnels to a secret wall just outside the delegate’s quarters. He entered his room to find Daine asleep. 

Kitten raised her head and cooed softly at him.

“How is she?” he asked the dragonet quietly.

Kitten pointedly moved to curl up against Daine’s abdomen.

Frowning, Numair bent over the bed to peer at Daine. She was dreaming fitfully, a deep line set across her forehead. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she sighed happily, her frown banished.

“I’m sorry, magelet,” he whispered to her sleeping form, “If I could go back in time and change things, I would.”

Kitten chirped a quiet question and Numair petted her sadly, “I can’t say, little one, but just- stay close to her, alright?”

The dragonet nodded and snuggled closer to her adopted mother.

He sighed heavily and changed into his clothes for the banquet but before he left, he took one last long look at his little family.

For all his power, if he couldn’t protect them than what was it all worth?


	9. Cursed Secrets

Numair arrived at the banquet and was immediately set upon by Alanna, Varice, and Kaddar who all wondered if Daine would be joining them that night.

“I’m afraid she’s still asleep. Healing takes a lot out of her.”

“That’s strange,” said Kaddar, “she seemed fine after the first time.”

“She had help,” said Alanna, adding a note to her voice that warned the prince against further questions.

He frowned and Zek leaped over to his shoulder, trying to comfort him. It worked almost immediately as the prince smiled at the marmoset and fed him a grape.

“He seems to like you,” said Varice, seeming a little saddened by that.

Kaddar shrugged, “Zek is just really friendly. I’m better with plants.”

As if to prove Kaddar's point, Zek leaped over to Varice’s shoulder and scurried beneath her long blonde hair. At first, she seemed taken aback by the marmoset but was soon smiling as Zek peeked out to chatter in her ear.

Numair gestured dramatically, “See, Alanna. I told you, he only prefers Daine because he can hide under her hair!”

Alanna chuckled, “Yes, because the fact that she can talk to him has nothing to do with it.”

A thought struck Numair and he grinned at the small monkey, “Zek, would you like to stay with Varice for a little while? Since Daine isn’t feeling well?”

Zek nodded and ducked back under her hair.

Varice frowned, “Are you sure Daine won’t mind?”

“If Zek’s happy, Daine’s happy.”

Nodding, Varice stood a little straighter, “Alright, well, I should probably check on the other guests. And ask one of the servants to send some food to the delegate’s quarters.”

“Thank you, Varice,."

She waved at Numair's gratitude and flitted away, snatching an entire vine of grapes from one of the plates on her way.

Once Varice had disappeared into the crowd, Alanna turned on Numair with a raised eyebrow, “What are you scheming at?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Alanna rolled her eyes, “Sure you don’t, you lanky fool. Fine, don’t tell me.”

Numair passed her a bored look, “Think about it, Alanna. What possible reason would I have to make sure someone in the palace has an animal with them at all times?”

She grinned, “Ah, I see. You really are too clever for your own good.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” said Kaddar.

Alanna patted the prince on the arm, “Probably for the best, your highness. Trying to understand this one’s mind is a long course of study with very little payoff.”

“It’s hard to remember you’re my friend when you insult me so often,” said Numair but the light in his eyes belied his flat tone.

“That’s how you know my friendship is true. The day I start being nice, you’ll start to worry.”

 

Daine was awake when Numair returned to his room that night. She barely acknowledged the opening door as she was staring into the distance, her brows drawn together in contemplation. Kitten chirped from her side, greeting Numair in typical dragonet fashion.

“You missed the badger,” Daine told him absently.

“Ah. Well, I’m sure whatever he had to say must be very important.” His voice was sarcastic but he felt anything except nonchalant. A visit from the badger usually meant trouble for Daine and the last thing they needed was more trouble.

“He was just reminding me that I need to talk to you, though he wouldn’t tell me why he couldn’t just talk to you himself.”

Numair sat in the desk chair, giving her his full attention, “By all means, magelet. Tell me what the badger had to say.”

Speaking slowly, she relayed the tale of the Badger’s first visit the afternoon they had arrived, “It wasn’t really anything he had to say but more what he did. At first, he wanted to know why I was in Carthak and after I told him, he started acting...not like himself. He started talking like I wasn’t there, shouting at the ceiling that ‘Carthak’s punishment would have to wait’. Then, he just stopped and said ‘as you wish’ and, I’ll tell you, if I thought he’d been acting strange before that, he was even stranger then. He said he had a gift for me and breathed his silver magic on my face. Then this evening he showed up, apologized for being vague, and told me that I needed to tell you about the gift.”

“What gift?” he asked.

“Yes, just, uh, give me a moment. It'll be easier to show you.”

Sliding off the end of the bed, she darted from the room.

Numair passed Kitten a frown but the dragonet was just as confused as he was.

When Daine strode back in she was carrying something wrapped in a sheet. Kicking the door closed, she stood there for a moment looking down at the bundle as if she were afraid of it.

“What is that?”

Carefully placing it on the bedside stand, she pulled the cloth away.

It was a stuffed king vulture, the same one which had decorated the end table in the common room. After the incident with the bird in his room, some discerning individual (likely Alanna) had draped a cloth over the taxidermied decoration. Instead of eyes, two emeralds had been set in the bird's sockets and its feathers had been dyed a multitude of jeweled tones.

“For a man that supposedly loves animals, there sure are a lot of them on display around here,” she grumbled before glancing at Numair. “Watch.”

All it took was the touch of her finger across the feathered head and a flash of white light chased the shadows from the room. When Numair could see past the spots in his vision, he found Daine staring down at the vulture with wide eyes.

He was about to ask for an explanation when the previously dead bird cocked its head at her.

“I need to sit.” She fell heavily on the bed and cradled her head in her hands.

“Are you alright?’ Numair asked, aware that his voice was shaking.

“I’m fine, just a little dizzy,” she replied. Kitten curled up beside her, whistling her own concern. Daine barely seemed to notice.

Nervous energy forced Numair from his seat so he could pace the room. A million thoughts flooded his mind, not the least of which was how this fit into the Graveyard Hag’s plan for Carthak. “So this new...ability. It brings dead animals back to life.”

“I sure haven’t tried it on a human!” Daine exclaimed, looking up at him in astonishment right before she turned pale and let her head fall back into her hands.

“It wasn’t really a question but that’s a good answer all the same,” he replied, stopping his pacing to look at her firmly, “You must refrain from letting anyone else know about this newfound power.”

“I don’t think it will be that easy. It keeps getting away from me.”

His voice dropped to a chilly whisper, “You don’t want the Emperor to find out about this. The things he would try to make you do-” Numair made the sign against evil while Daine visibly shuddered.

“Numair,” she whispered after a long moment, reaching up to touch the silver claw at her throat, “I don’t think this is my magic.”

“It’s not, wild magic isn’t capable of necromancy but this isn’t even that. Look at it, you aren’t controlling it, it’s acting of its own volition. Like its essence has been returned. Only gods can do that.”

“Why would the badger do this?”

“I don’t think he had a choice,” Numair replied before he could think better of it.

“What does that mean?”

He sighed and sat beside her, taking her hand, “Nothing.”

She pulled her hand away from him, “And what does THAT mean?”

“It’s not something I can talk about,” he replied, ducking his head.

“Why not?”

Numair felt an invisible hand around his throat. Damned Graveyard Hag. “I can’t tell you that either.”

“Great! Secrets, secrets, and more secrets!” To say she was angry was an understatement. Even Kitten was shrinking away from her to hide behind Numair.

He placed a sympathetic hand on the dragonet but it did little good.

“Are you still alive?” Daine snapped at the vulture, directing her anger at anything that happened across her thoughts.

The vulture nodded. Whatever it was, alive or dead, it seemed to have the same reaction to Daine all other animals did. It flew across the room to land beside her, preening her hair. She giggled at it involuntarily. “What are we going to do with you? To be honest, I didn’t expect you to stay this long.”

It flew to the window and began pecking at the shutters.

“You want out?” she asked, deciphering the vulture’s cues just like any other human would.

“You can’t communicate with it?” asked Numair.

She shook her head, “Not like other animals. It’s like he doesn’t have a mind. But he must, right?”

He shrugged, “Hard to say. God magics aren’t my area of expertise.”

“No, but secret keeping is.”

Rolling his eyes, he passed her a bored expression, “That isn’t fair. If I could tell you, I would but I physically can’t.”

She glared at him, obviously unconcerned with his very valid reason.

Numair shook his head at her stubbornness and moved toward the window, Kitten at his heels, “I think, for now, we should grant its wish and set it free.”

He shooed the bird until it fluttered to the ground, then he opened the shutters and stood aside. Taking the choice offered by Numair’s waved hand, the bird flapped its great wings and flew off into the night.

Numair closed the shutters, unconcerned by the confined feeling that swept over him. Imprisonment had slipped to the very bottom of his list of concerns. At that moment, said list was topped by his fuming magelet.

“Are you really alright?” he asked her, his hands lingering on the sandalwood.

“No,” she hissed and then sighed, “Whatever secret you’re keeping better be worth it ‘cause I’m really mad at you right now.”

His hands dropped to his sides, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You really would tell me if you could, right?” The note of hurt in her voice tore him to the bone.

“It isn’t because I don’t trust you, Daine, I do, more than anyone, and it’s figuratively killing me that I have to keep this from you but it’s for a very good reason.”

“And that is?”

He opened his mouth, waiting for the telltale tightness in his throat but when it didn’t come, he said, “To keep my promise.”

“I s’pose that’s a good reason, then,” she replied sarcastically, “Come on, Kit.”

Daine opened the door and Kitten trilled at him.

He sighed, “Go, little one. She’s angry at me, not you. Best keep it that way.”

The dragonet passed him a sad look before nodding and slipping out.

The door closing behind them was like a knife in his heart, one that was likely to stay embedded until the Graveyard Hag got what she wanted.


	10. Power Plays

Numair took a seat in his usual spot in the audience chamber where the negotiations were being held. Alanna joined him a moment later, looking rather annoyed.

“I’m going to kill someone,” she grumbled.

“Anyone in particular?” he asked, feigning boredom with her declaration of murderous intent.

She passed him a sideways glare, “The list is growing but I’ll start with whoever decided to put a visit from the university’s mage council on today’s docket. Forgive me, my friend, but nobody can drag out a speech like a university mage.”

“No offense taken. Though, I have to wonder what they hope to gain.”

Alanna shrugged, “Who could know? But unless it gets us past this damned debate over fishing rights, I’m not for it.”

Their conversation came to an end when Ozorne entered the chamber, filling the room with murmurs. The emperor had been gratefully absent during the negotiations so far, making his presence cause for concern.

Dressed in simple white cotton with a red shoulder drape, he was understated in both his appearance and his expression as he took his seat at the front of the room.

“Friends!” he called from his chair, silencing the chatter, “We have heard that negotiations have not been going well so we have come to see if the situation cannot be remedied. Carthak is prepared to concede all remaining points of contention and finally sign the treaty if Tortall is willing to grant us one request.”

Ozorne turned cold eyes to Duke Gareth, “To ensure ever-lasting peace between our countries, we request that the princess, Kalasin of Conte, be betrothed to our Crowned Prince Kaddar Iliniat. If the delegation would agree to the addendum, the princess would be welcome in our palace starting next spring so that she can come to know our great empire as a home.”

Alanna tensed and for the first time since he’d met her, Numair could feel her power seep into the room. Quickly, he encircled her wrist, alerting her to her gift’s reaction. Alanna glared at his hand for a moment before blinking and pulling her magic back to herself.

Duke Gareth stood, leaning heavily on his ornate cane, “That is a very generous offer, your majesty, but as humble representatives, we cannot arrange such a union no matter the benefit. We must seek the counsel of our king in this matter.”

Ozorne smiled kindly, “But of course. Worry not, you will be given the opportunity to communicate with our royal cousin this afternoon with a decision to be announced during tomorrow’s meeting. For now, we have a show of faith.”

The doors opened and a group of mages filtered into the room. Lindhall was among them, looking rather haggard. He glanced at Numair and a silent message passed between the two men. They needed to speak, soon. Numair nodded subtly.

The mages gathered in the center of the room and Master Chioke emerged from among their ranks, wearing an expression that was all at once calculating and contrite.

“Ambassadors and friends from across the sea! We asked our generous emperor for the opportunity to speak with you today in regards to our failure. In allowing renegades from our university to abscond with copies of the unlocking spells, a plague of immortals has been unleashed on us. Innocent people have been tormented by these monsters and we feel it is our responsibility to offer our sincere apologies by allowing the delegates from Tortall the chance to examine the original spells used a millennia ago to banish the immortals to the divine realms. For the safety of everyone, we cannot allow the spells to be copied or taken but we hope that our humble offer will make amends for the damaged caused by our folly.”

A gasp rang through the hall as everyone took in the weight of what that could mean. The university jealously guarded the ancient spells, deeming them too dangerous to be used again, but Numair saw the ploy for what it was. A distraction.

Ozorne wanted Numair busy, which did not bode well at all.

Standing, Ozorne clapped his hands together, the sound ringing through the room with finality. “That is very gracious of our friends at the university and as such, we will provide the Tortallan delegates the rest of the day in order to not only speak to their regent but also examine the spells in the hope that they may be able to stem the tide of violence that threatens them.”

And with that, Ozorne strode from the room. The mages followed, filtering out after the emperor as if they were chained to him.

Alanna stood stiffly and stomped toward the exit. Numair went after her, pulling her to a stop in the corridor. As soon as he touched her, she turned on him, her face going red.

“Kalasin! He’s got to be joking! Please tell me he’s joking! She’s ten! There is no way either Thayet or Jonathan would marry off their daughter at TEN!”

Pursing his lips, Numair spoke with a calm he didn’t feel, “Ozorne knows that, Alanna. That’s why he’s doing it. He can’t fight the power of the dominion jewel so, if we agree, he has a hostage to use against Jonathan for an invasion. If we decline, we are at fault for the breakdown of these negotiations and we lose our allies. Either way, Ozorne gets what he wants. Tortall, weak and ripe for the taking.”

She cursed, loudly and vividly.

Numair almost didn’t want to speak his mind because he was sure Alanna was going to kill him if he did but there was too much at stake not to. “We should agree to the marriage.”

“What!?” If he thought she was angry before, that was nothing compared to the heated magic that flowed from her in waves.

“Wait, calm down and listen to me. We both know Ozorne wouldn’t hesitate to use Kalasin in his games but think about the other party to this union. I may not know Kaddar well, but Daine does and she thinks he is a good man.”

Alanna’s brows drew together, “You think Kaddar would stop Ozorne? That he would protect Kalasin?”

Numair nodded, “I care about Kalasin too, so you know how serious I am when I say I that I’m willing to bet her life on it.”

She let out a long breath, “If anyone else had said it, I would think they were willing to sacrifice Kalasin to peace, but if you trust Kaddar, then I will as well. Gods, Jonathan is not going to like this at all.”

“I don’t envy you having to speak to him,” Numair replied, trying to inject some levity into the situation for Alanna’s sake.

She smirked at him but the anger that still crackled in her amethyst eyes made the expression fall flat, “I’d rather do that then have to spend the next hours pouring over ancient spells. Wait, look who I’m speaking to. You’ll be enjoying every moment of that, you bookish fool.”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it. Just a little though. I swear.”

Alanna chuckled and patted him on the arm, “Thanks, Numair.”

“What else are friends for?”

“According to you? Dampening spells and healing.”

He joined in her chuckle but the sound was forced. Not because he wasn’t glad to see Alanna feeling a little better, but because he couldn’t help the feeling that they had reached the end game.

The board had been set, the initial moves made. All he could do now was hope for the best and pray that the Graveyard Hag’s plans didn’t lead to their doom.

 

The break in the peace accords was a blessing. Numair hardly needed time to memorize the barrier spells. Not when he knew, within moments of touching the thick parchment, that they were fake. It was a sad attempt on Ozorne’s part to distract him but, if he was going to provide Numair with an opening, the mage would take it.

After setting his simulacrum, Numair shifted into his hawk shape and slipped out the open window.

The warm breeze beneath his wings was liberating and the view of the city was breathtaking. The Zekoi glimmered in the afternoon light and the towering temples shot into the clear sky like fingers.

Down below, the people of Carthak went about their daily lives. Children played with stuffed leather balls on the edges of busy roads and merchants called out to passersby, bragging about the quality of their wares.

Among the bustle his hawk eyes found Daine.

She looked for all-the-world like just another girl about the city, stopping every so often to admire the work of a craftsman or pat the head of one the city’s stray beasts.

The prince strolled beside her, his demeanor relaxed. In fact, the two of them were smiling.

Numair didn’t like it, especially when Kaddar tweaked Daine’s nose playfully, pulling a genuine laugh from her that rang across the streets below to settle around Numair’s throat like a noose.

Not that he had any right to be envious of Daine’s easy laughter. It was only natural that she and the prince would enjoy each other’s company. They were two young people walking about one of the most wondrous cities in the world. They should be laughing and having fun. Like he had once upon a time.

Flapping his wings, Numair sped off toward the university.

Lindhalls’ rooms were exactly as Numair remembered them. The familiar sights, sounds, and smells transported him back in time to when he had been just another youth enjoying the free moments between classes.

Those had been simpler times and, despite the aftermath, Numair remembered them fondly. He had learned, laughed, and loved within these walls and there wasn’t much that could temper the warmth he felt at the flood of pleasant memories.

The sound of footsteps pulled Numair from his past.

The university, no matter how familiar, was no longer his home.

He quickly made himself invisible and hid in the corner where he wouldn’t be stumbled upon before the door opened.

Numair should have revealed himself the moment Lindhall walked in with Kaddar and Daine in tow, but he became enamored by the way Daine lit up at the sight of Lindhall’s small menagerie. She floated from habitat to habitat with a luminous smile, greeting each of the animals like they were long lost siblings.

Lindhall shared Numair’s awe, watching Daine reach in to pet the often cantankerous tortoise, Sunstone.

"Be careful, he is prone to attachment. If you're too friendly, he'll follow you home."

Daine grinned, "I don't think he would. He likes it here too much."

A sharp hiss brought Numair’s attention downward.

Having seen his spell, but not knowing who was behind it, Kitten set about using a whistling spell to make him visible. If it had been anyone but Numair, she would have succeeded. Still, her attention had rendered his concealment futile as all three humans looked in his direction.

With the wave of his hand, he broke the enchantment and scowled at the dragonet. “You just had to give me away, didn’t you?”

Kitten nuzzled his leg, not apologizing but apparently happy to see him. With a sigh, he reached down and scratched the top of her head. Spoiled dragon could get away with murder.

“Numair?”

The surprised sound of his name pulled his attention away from Kitten and toward a gaping Daine. As soon as their gazes met, she closed her mouth and glared at him.

“What are you doing here! You were forbidden to leave the palace! What if they find out you’re gone! By the goddess, Numair! Are you trying to get yourself killed!” Then she whirled, unleashing her ever-increasing volume on Kaddar, “You knew he’d be here! That’s why you brought me!”

“Actually, I asked him to bring you here so you could meet all my friends,” said Lindhall waving toward his animals.

Numair and Kaddar starred in surprise as Daine’s rage visibly drained from her. She was offenseless in the face of such pure intentions, no matter how furious she wanted to be.

“You take too many risks,” Daine grumbled as the last of her anger dissipated.

Numair stepped forward and took her hands, “It’s a necessary risk, magelet.”

“What could be worth your life?” she asked, looking up at him with those deep eyes that left his brain a puddle of uselessness.

“I needed to speak to Lindhall somewhere where Ozorne's spies wouldn't ovethear," said Numair, “I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t very important.”

Daine pointed a displeased but ultimately depleted look at him, “I’ll be talking to Lindhall’s birds. I’m that tired of secrets.”

Numair winced as the door to the aviary closed behind her.

Lindhall clapped his former student on the shoulder, “She’s very passionate. Reminds me of when you were a student here.”

“She’s far more patient than I ever was.”

“True enough. Gods know you never would have excepted such a vague explaination.”

“You're right,” Numair admitted softly.

Changing the subject before the stabbing pain in his chest crippled him completely, Numair turned toward the prince, “Have you been told about what happened at the negotiations today?”

Kaddar's scowl spoke volumes, “Yes. My uncle is a fool if he thinks that King Jonathan will agree to let his daughter be a hostage.”

“Alanna is convincing him to do just that,” Numair said, his voice tinged with guilt.

“What?” Kaddar exclaimed, “You can’t be serious! No! I won’t be party to the suffering of a young girl!”

“That’s what I’d hoped you’d say. You’ll make a very good emperor someday.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” said Lindhall, “What are you scheming at?”

Numair waved away the older man’s question, “Nothing specific. Just making sure that if things come to that, I’m putting my faith in the right man. Now, with that settled, would you mind keeping Daine company, your highness? I’d like to speak to Lindhall alone.”

Kaddar let out a long-suffering sigh and nodded, stalking into the aviary like a dismissed pet.

“Is my back up plan still in place?” Numair asked the moment the door closed.

Lindhall nodded, “Yes, but I hope you won’t need it.”

“That’s a vain hope if today’s negotiations were any indication.”

“I know,” said Lindhall, his shoulders falling, “especially since Ozorne wants Chioke on hand for tomorrow's banquet.”

“I’m not surprised but, seeing as Jonathan will likely agree to the marriage, I doubt I’ll be arrested publically. It's more likely I’ll suddenly go missing during the festivities. If that is the case, Daine won’t want to leave without me but hopefully Alanna can make her understand.”

Lindhall frowned, “Wouldn't it be better to just tell Daine your plans now?”

“You have no idea how much I wish I could but the Gr-”

The sound of screeching birds alerted the men to something happening in the aviary.

Leaving the conversation unfinished, they rushed in to find Daine and Kaddar standing stock-still as a skeletal fusion of lizard and bird fluttered around the room on featherless wings. Lindhall's birds were understandably frightened of the reanimated creature, crying out and trying to escape to the highest branches of the evergreen trees.

Daine swayed but Numair caught her by the elbow, leading her toward a ornaitly carved chair.

“Are you alright?” Numair asked, kneeling in front of her and brushing the hair back from her face.

Her nod meant little when she was so pale. "I’m sorry, Numair. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“How did you?” asked Lindhall, who was examining the newly resurrected creature perched beside him, “Pulling creatures from the Black God’s realm is a power only ever used by servants of the Graveyard Hag.”

“You mustn’t use this ability while you’re in Carthak,” said Kaddar, panic in his voice, “If my uncle ever found out-”

“If you have any ideas of how to be rid of it, tell me now. I’m tired of having to watch my every move.” Daine pointed a rueful look at Kaddar from beneath half-lidded eyes, “The amount of dead things on display in the palace is ridiculous.”

Kaddar tried to smile but failed, “I’ll take it up with the decorators.”

Recovered from his shock but still needing a moment to calm himself, Kaddar disappeared behind a door and came back a few moments later with a glass of water. Daine accepted it from him with a weak smile and took a tentative sip. She repeated the process a few more times but the color wouldn’t return to her cheeks, only increasing Numair's concern.

The tall mage looked toward his old mentor with a plea but Lindhall could was equally at a loss for answers.

“It would take a far greater magic than that of mortal mages to remove your ability, Daine, but maybe it could be controlled somehow. If I may, I’d like to keep Bonedancer here to study.” Lindhall indicated the skeleton that had started preening his hair. “Maybe if I can determine what is binding it together, I can devise a charm that will allow you to shield yourself.”

Daine smiled sadly at the old man, recognizing the naming of the now-living skeleton for what it was, “If he wants to stay, then I've no problem with it. I don’t know how long he’ll be awake though. The great three-horn only stayed for a few minutes before going back to sleep.”

“Great three-horn?” Numair asked, more concerned than puzzled. How many times had she used the power?

Daine averted her eyes, “Its how I learned what the Badger'd done. Master Lindhall was showing me the Hall of Bones when I touched the thing’s frill. It moved for a few minutes and then stopped. What’s strange is that I didn’t feel weak after that. Not like now or with the vulture.”

“I doubt that’s a coincidence,” said Lindhall, “to keep an animal alive longer than a few minutes would take more power. It’s likely drawing directly from your life force, magic this strong would have to.”

Numair and Daine looked at each other with wide eyes. Her lifeforce? Was this ability killing her? Alarmed, he brought forth his magical sight and looked past the copper fire toward the white light that was her essence. It pulsed slowly, dimming and brightening at regular intervals. Lindhall was right. The power was draining her.

“Even more reason not to use it,” remarked Kaddar, the tension in his shoulders hadn’t left him since the bird-lizard had awoken and it became clear that he knew more than he was letting on.

“I’ll try not to,” she promised, looking only at Numair.

At that point, it was all he could ask, but he and the Graveyard Hag were due a very long conversation.

“Numair, I think you had better get back to the palace before you're missed,” said Lindhall softly, "Daine can rest here."

When Numair made no move to leave, Daine took his hand in a weak grip, "He's right. Go, I'll be alright."

He looked down at their hands, visibly arguing with himself before reluctantly getting to his feet. "I don't like leaving you in this state."

Trying to prove she would be fine, Daine tried to stand, "I'll be-".

Her eyes rolled back in her head.

Numair caught her as she fell and laid her on the floor. Looking back at her essence, he found it wasn’t pulsing anymore. It was slowly fading.

Before he could think better of it, he called forth his magic and funneled it directly into her core. Wild magic came to greet it but instead of tangling, like it normally did, it merged into a single entity of sparkling dark copper. It flowed into her essence and the white light began blinking rapidly before finally settling into it’s normally bright and steady glow.

She came awake with a sharp inhale.

“Gods be good,” said Kaddar and made the sign against evil.

Numair barely noticed, his racing heart refusing to calm until Daine squeezed the hand he didn’t know still gripped hers.

“Are you alright?” he asked her, his voice a panicked gasp.

She took a deep breath, “I think so. What happened?”

“You almost died...again,” he said, unable to make his mind truly wrap around the necessary qualifier, “If you keep doing this, I’m going to have a heart attack and die right beside you.”

The joke was lost as Daine pinned him with wide eyes, "Don't say things like that."

Something passed between them in that moment, a truth ignored for far too long and much too frightening to bare. Their magic reacted to the revelation, stoked into a firey blaze that consumed them both.

“Numair...our magic…it's-”

“I see it.”

“Why is it doing that?”

“I think that’s a study for another time,” said Lindhall, gently squeezing Numair’s shoulder. As they returned to seeming reality, Daine’s wild magic and Numair’s gift returned to their respected masters- leaving them staring at each other in awe.

Numair pulled Daine to her feet and realized their fingers had entwined. Slowly, they detangled thier digits, staring at their seperated hands like they were foreign.

Finally Daine broke the silence with a murmured, "Later."

Reluctantly, he backed away from her and shifted into a hawk. She watched him fly away, standing at the window and refusing to blink until he disappeared into the bright Carthaki sun.

“What WAS all that?” asked Kaddar, his shock making the words into a gasp.

“The most amazing thing you’ll ever see, my boy," said Lindhall kindly.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will one day. If the gods are kind.”

 

That night, Daine walked into his room as if she belonged there.

There were no words, no admissions, no guilt, as Numair lifted the covers in invitation and she laid down beside him.

The morning would bring the return of their secrets and fears, but that night was theirs to bask in the warmth of truth.


	11. Truth and Lies

The next morning, Numair awoke with Daine in his arms and couldn’t find it within himself to pretend otherwise. He was simply content to watch her sleep, entranced by the soft expression that came from gentle dreams. He wanted to stay that way forever.

Unfortunately, the real world was soon upon them, coming as a summoning bell that had her eyes blinking open.

She smiled at him, “Morning.”

“Good morning,” he said and reluctantly let her go as she stretched and yawned. 

“Do you have to go?” she asked when she was finally awake enough to join him outside of the warm bubble of their contentment, “Can’t we just stay here for the day?”

“How I wish I could but my absence would definitely be noted.”

Sighing, she sat up, “Damn. Well, I s’pose I’d better let you get to it, then.”

She started to slide out of the bed but he caught her hand, “Daine?”

“Yes?”

He sighed, “We’re going to have to talk about this.”

“I know but I think that’s something best done at home, don’t you?”

He nodded, “You’re probably right.”

She shifted into a mouse and he stood to let her scurry out the door, taking his peace-of-mind with her.

Groaning against the weight of the day, he dressed and mentally prepared himself for what promised to be a mess. His tangled emotions notwithstanding.

 

It was as everyone expected, the negotiations had opened with the demand that an answer be given as to the betrothal of Kalasin to Kaddar.

Alanna stood to answer, her voice filled with the promise of retribution, “King Jonathan of Conte has agreed to your terms, your majesty. This spring, Kalasin will make her new home here in Carthak though with the promise that she and Prince Kaddar will not be officially wed until she comes of fifteen years of age.”

Ozorne smiled darkly, “Then we have accomplished our goal! Everlasting peace between Carthak and Tortall is at hand!”

There was a cheer from the crowd of delegates but the Tortallans did not join.

Alanna rubbed at her hands as if trying to clean them of dirt but no amount of bathing would wash away the filth of using a ten-year-old girl as a pawn.

“Tonight we will celebrate!” announced the Emperor, “Please join us in the great hall this evening where we will toast to our success!”

Another cheer and Ozorne waved toward the doors, dismissing the congregation.

As he stood to leave, Numair felt Ozorne’s eyes on him. Smug did not even begin to describe the Emperor’s expression.

 

When Numair returned to the common room, he learned from a note left by Daine that she was with Kaddar and would see him at dinner that evening.

He was glad of it. At least she could try to enjoy herself. Meanwhile, he was determined to wallow in self-pity.

Alanna sat across from him as he settled in the reading chair near the window.

“Please tell me we didn’t just make a huge mistake,” Alanna pleaded.

“I can’t guarantee anything, but I have faith.”

“I suppose that’s all I can ask for,” Alanna replied with a heavy sigh but just as soon as sadness overcame her, it disappeared, “Seeing as this was your cursed plan, I think it’s only fair you should serve as my comfort.”

Numair raised a wary eyebrow at her, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Oh, you won’t,” Alanna promised with a dark grin, “I want to play a game.”

“What sort?” he asked, knowing full-well that he was stepping into a trap.

“How about truth and lies? I’ll make a statement, and you’ll have to guess whether it’s true or not.”

“I really don’t like this idea,” he groaned.

“I don’t care if you like it or not because you’re going to play. I think you owe me that much after all the things I’ve had to deal with this trip.”

He rolled his eyes, “My manipulative friend, how could I refuse when you twist the knife so?”

She waved away his words like a pest, “Oh, quit your dramatics. It won’t be nearly as bad as you think, though it will be bad. Just fair warning.”

“Well, at least you’re warning me. Please, begin your interrogation masquerading as a friendly game,” Numair replied dryly.

“As you wish, master mage. First statement. I saw an ash-brown mouse scurry out of your room this morning.”

Numair shook his head, “Right to the point? No warm-up?”

Alanna shrugged and smiled, “What is your guess, true or false?”

Sighing he answered, “True.”

“I knew it!” Alanna nearly shouted.

“Please, Alanna, keep your voice down.”

“Never. How long has this been going on and why in the name of the Goddess didn’t you tell me?”

Numair raised an eyebrow, “There isn’t actually anything to tell. That said, I don’t believe this is how the game works. You’ve made your statement, now it’s my turn.”

“I should have known better than give you an advantage you clever idiot,” she grumbled playfully, “Fine, what is your statement?”

“George has been speaking to Varice through letters for over a year.”

Alanna sighed, “You know it’s true. Why waste a turn?”

“Confirmation,” he replied simply, “Your turn.”

She put her finger to her chin, making a show of contemplating her next statement, “You and our little mouse haven’t spoken yet. That’s why you’re being evasive.”

“That’s two statements though I’ll let it slide. They’re both true.”

Alanna reached across the distance between them to place a comforting hand on his knee, “You should. I want you two to be happy.”

“I can’t speak for the mouse but I am,” he replied with a smile, “Unbelievably so.”

“Good,” Alanna sat back, “That’s two statements for you, sir. Only to be fair.”

Numair bowed his head respectfully, “George gave you a map of the slave tunnels beneath the palace and you’re going to give it Kalasin before she comes here.”

She chuckled, “True to both. How do you know all this?”

Numair smiled, “That would be telling.”

Alanna smiled back, “I hate you.”

“False.”

Rolling her eyes she said, “Of course it’s false, you fool, but that wasn’t my statement.” 

“Then by all means.”

Her head fell, “Ozorne won’t let you leave with us.”

Numair let out a long breath as her statement erased all the mirth their game had brought him, “True.”

She let out a long-suffering sigh, “One statement for you, my friend.”

“You didn’t bring your ruby necklace with you.”

“True. Not that I need it. Everyone can feel the danger on the horizon.”

Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the pain in his heart over what he might have to do to his friends in order to pay his debt, “You don’t know how true that is.”

“I’m sure I don’t. Alright, now, I have two statements for you.” 

He waved her on though he could already guess what she would say, “You plan to be captured.” Then she paused and glared at him, “And you expect Daine to leave without you.”

Numair could only mumble a half-hearted, “True.”

“You guessed wrong, idiot.”

“You and Lindhall will convince her.”

Alanna’s glare grew heated, “False. Very, very false. And if you’re as clever as you think you are, your grand plans will include her using every animal in this city to find you.”

“Look, Daine wasn’t built for spycraft. She hates secrets. Frankly, so do I but I’m willing to put aside my feelings for the good of others, Daine hasn’t learned that skill and won’t if I have anything to say about it. That said, if you can’t convince her to leave then I will have to resort to extreme measures that I cannot explain at this time.”

Alanna’s eyebrows shot up, “How extreme?”

“Daine will likely hate me afterward.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious. I’d rather she be angry at me than be in danger.”

“Damnit, then let’s pray Lindhall and I can convince her because you two deserve to be happy after everything you’ve been through together.”

“Thank you, Alanna.”

“Don’t thank me,” she said, exasperated, “This is a very bad idea and you know it.”

“Do I?”

“Yes you do and I swear by the Goddess that if you get killed taking Ozorne down, I’ll resurrect you just to kill you myself.”

“Noted.”

“Then I’ll resurrect you again so Daine can kill you.”

“Also noted.”

“Then I’ll do it again-”

He held up a hand, “Can you just give me a number? Just so I can warn the Black God how many times he can expect me to be in and out his realm?”

She grinned, “Just don’t die, clever.”

“I’ll do my best. Now, if we are done with this game, I have to prepare for the celebration of our peaceful endeavors.”

“That soon?”

“Unfortunately.”

Alanna stood and held out her hand to him. He took it and she pulled him into a tight hug. “Good luck, my friend.”

“Same to you, my lady.”

 

Numair went to the kitchens before the celebrations started because he had one last person to speak to before things began. As expected, Varice was flitting around the room like a butterfly, peering into pots and magically calling spices. She was so preoccupied that she crashed into Numair when he made the mistake of coming up behind her.

“Mithros, Minos, and Shaketh! What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, “I was hoping to speak with you.”

“What for?” she asked distractedly.

Instead of answering, he took her hand and pulled her toward one of the walk-in pantries.

“Numair! What are you doing! The puff pastries!”

“It’ll only take a moment Varice,” he said and, pulling her in after him, closed the door.

Varice brought a magelight to her fingers for the sole purpose of glaring at him, “I swear by the gods, if they get ruined I’m going to poison your next meal.”

He smiled, “I’ve had a lot of death threats from my friends today. Do you think that means something?”

“That you’re insane? Talk quick, you fool.”

Numair sobered, pinning Varice with a knowing look, “Is Zek with you?”

The marmoset peeked out from under Varice’s hair, “Oh good, keep him close but you should be warned, he may get very upset soon.”

“Why?” she asked, reaching up to gently stroke the small creature’s head.

“Daine. She’s probably going to be livid when she finds out that I’ve been arrested and when she gets upset, so do all the animals near her.”

Varice gaped, “Arrested? Why?”

He passed her a bored frown, “You didn’t actually believe Ozorne would let me leave, did you?”

She sighed, “I had hoped. So, that’s how you’re putting your plans into action? Purposely getting arrested? You think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t really have a choice. If I just disappeared into the city, Ozorne would be justified in calling for my head. If he arrests me first, he is violating the spirit of my pardon, allowing Kaddar to retroactively sanction my actions. To put it simply, I’m trying to get out of this with my head still firmly attached to my neck. Now, if at any point after my arrest, Zek starts acting strangely you should send word to Lindhall.”

“Because that’ll mean Daine’s somewhere nearby. I get it. You gave Zek to me so I could keep my promise, right?”

He nodded.

“Alright, is there anything else? I have a dinner to finish preparing.”

“Of course, just one last thing.”

“Yes?”

He took her hands in each of his and kissed first the left than the right, “Thank you. For making sure Daine is safe. I might not get to say that later so I wanted to say it now. So you’ll know how much this means to me.”

She stared down at the hands he had kissed with a forlorn look, “I love you, Arram.”

“I know, and I am sorry for that.”

She purposely pulled her hands from him, “Don’t be. You’re not Arram anymore. I wish I would have realized that sooner. Then maybe I would have become the person I was meant to be a long time ago.”

“And who is that exactly?”

“A woman who is willing to fight for her friends.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, “Don’t worry, Numair, I’ll do my best to make sure Daine isn’t hurt.”

“I believe you.”

“Good,” she said and ducked out of the pantry.

Numair lingered, wondering if Varice was right. He might have insisted that he was Numair but pieces of Arram were still there, like a second voice that only whispered to him in memories.

No, Arram wasn't really gone but perhaps it was a final lesson to be learned from the girl he had loved. Maybe it was time to let Arram go. He just wasn’t sure if he could.


	12. Black's Pawn to F-5

Numair had expected it all. The soldiers in the shadows, Ozorne’s late arrival, Alanna’s refusal to leave his side. The pieces set in the great game between him and the emperor. He almost wanted to smile at the predictability. 

Then, like a punch to the gut, wild magic tore through his chest with more force than he had ever felt.

He gripped his sturnum as the sensation crippled him.

“Numair?” It was Alanna offering him support as Daine’s pain crushed him, “What’s wrong?”

A whispered, “Daine,” was all he managed but it was more than enough for Alanna to gasp with understanding.

As if on cue, a familiar dampening spell was laid over the great hall. It was meant for one person but affected everyone nearby. Even the ungifted gasped as the spell ripped away the natural world, leaving an emptiness in their hearts. Numair’s gift reacted violently as it was forced to recede, leaving ragged wounds on his soul that dripped hot blood onto his frozen heart.

The soldiers descended upon Numair, surrounding him with pointed spears. Two from amongst them stepped forward to take up each of Numair’s arms. He struggled against the men, managing to get free only to have a spear placed within inches of his throat.

Alanna pushed between the ranks, throwing elbows and emerging at spear-point herself.

“The Lady Alanna will not be harmed,” said Ozorne, appearing behind the soldiers. 

Alanna shook off the soldier that had tried to arrest her, “What is this all about?”

Ozorne passed Alanna a dejected look. Most would have thought it sincere, Numair knew otherwise. “We regret to inform you that you have been betrayed, my lady. This afternoon we discovered Master Salmalin was conspiring with rebels within the city to overthrow our empire. We intercepted letters from him and, during the following interrogation, one man admitted the letters were delivered by a young woman with the ability to shapeshift into various animals. When we attempted to apprehend her, Miss Sarrasri escaped into the city’s underground.”

“You lying son of a whore! Where is she!” Numair yelled, trying to rip himself away from his captors.

Ozorne turned a sneer on Numair that was truthful in its disdain, “Do not pretend to care, Master Salmalin. Conspiring with rebels is one thing but it truly is despicable to corrupt such a pure and noble heart as Veralidaine’s.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Numair hissed, reading the promise behind the words. The same promise Ozorne had all-but spoken in the aviary.

Alanna spun toward the mage, her expression one of disbelief. Everyone else would have seen it as genuine but the light in her amethyst eyes begged forgiveness. “It’s true, isn’t it? I- I knew you hated Ozorne but, well, I had hoped you would be able to put it aside for the sake of peace. But, DAINE? How could you do this to her?”

The words were a reminder, a plea. Daine was in trouble. She needed his help and he couldn’t help her if he was dead. The look wasn’t enough to temper his rage but it was enough to make him remember what was at stake. To think.

Numair’s resulting frown was genuine but served the purpose it had to, “I did this for peace!”

Ozorne sighed heavily, “Then you should have trusted in our offer of friendship. Now you will never see the peace you claim to want. Still, because I am your friend, I hope you go to your fate with a lighter heart knowing that the treaty will stand. Peace is achieved.”

Alanna moved to within inches of him, glaring directly into his eyes, “See! You damned clever idiot! You should have trusted your friends! Not gone off on your own thinking you had all the answers!” Something fell into the pocket of his mage’s robe, “Now Daine will suffer right along with you!”

He let his head fall, going limp within his confines, if for no other reason to hide the way Alanna’s words truly stung. He had gotten Daine into this mess, now she was hurt because of him. In one moment all his worst fears were coming true.

“We assure you, my lady, we do not blame Veralidaine. You have our promise she will not be harmed,” said Ozorne, “We only mean to apprehend her so as to save her from the foolishness of ill-thought schemes.”

“Well, at least there’s that!” said Alanna and she spun on her heel to address Ozorne sadly, “Forgive me, your majesty, thank you for your generosity.”

“Of course, my lady,” said Ozorne and he waved for the soldiers to take Numair away, “We understand what it is to be betrayed by a friend.” 

The dampening spell followed Numair out, lingering around him like a cold fog.

He was led directly to the dungeons where the soldiers tossed him raggedly into a stone cell. The metal door clanged shut behind him, plunging him into that all too familiar darkness. The accompanying thrill of fear passed quickly, he had far more terrifying thoughts to contend with.

Tearing his robe open, he ripped the black opal pendant from around his neck.

There was a theory in magic colloquially called "the burning man". It was based on combustion, the physics behind it being that a controlled explosion would rob a fire of the oxygen required to keep burning. In magic, the idea was that any spell could be broken with enough power. The theory had yet to be proven one-hundred-percent accurate because most could not command enough power to break more complex spells.

After seeing what his and Daine’s combined power was capable of, he was a firm believer that the burning man was valid. So he had been imbuing the black opal with his magic since the attack on Pirate’s Swoop and, after Dunlath, had convinced Daine to add their twined power to it.

The black opal sparkled in the darkness, the magic hidden within begging to be unleashed.

More than willing to oblige, he smashed the opal against the stone wall. It cracked and a wave of combined wild magic and shadowy gift exploded outward. The dampening spell was obliterated in the aftermath.

His gift leaped to his fingers as the residual power danced in the air around him. When his gift touched the floating tendrils of wild magic, they merged and became the sparkling dark copper he and Daine had seen at the university. Then, much to his surprise, the combined magics seeped into him to take up residence at his core. The result was like being submerged in the ocean as the power consumed him. He seemed to be burning from the inside out but his mind was suddenly calm.

He thought about Daine and the power rose. There was no need to focus his will on the magic, it was just there. Like a limb he had never known he was missing.

The magic danced across the air until he could feel her. He didn’t know where she was but she wasn’t hurting anymore. She was angry. Angry and determined.

The feeling washed over him, becoming his own.

Numair retrieved the item Alanna had dropped into his pocket. It was an amethyst ring, one she normally wore on her index finger during formal occasions. Whistling softly, he was pleased when the stone pulsed with purple light. A focus.

“Thank you, Alanna.”

He was going to owe her a lot after they got back to Tortall. 

The moment his fingers gripped Alanna’s ring, he was transported across the city and below the deck of the Tortallan naval vessel, they had arrived on.

Five pairs of eyes fell on him. Three of them widened but two smiled, one set belonging to his mentor and the other belonging to a small dragon.

Kitten trilled happily and ran to him. He picked her up automatically, holding her close.

“Gods,” he breathed, relieved to see at least one part of his family was safe, “Are you alright, little one?”

She chirped confirmation and then began chattering angrily. Not for the first time, he wished he spoke dragon.

“Kaddar found her under the effects of a sleeping potion in a cage at the immortals' menagerie. He was able to wake her and, well,” Lindhall chuckled, “apparently even locks built to hold immortals are no match for dragon whistles.” 

“That means Ozorne has Daine imprisoned somewhere too,” Numair hissed. The ship swayed violently as his rage rose. Kitten chirped sharply and Numair realized what was happening, forcing himself to calm down. Everyone in the room let out a long breath as the ship stilled.

Kitten whistled sadly, burying her head in Numair’s shoulder. He tried to sooth the dragonet but he wasn’t much comfort. Not when his chest felt like it was collapsing.

Lindhall frowned, “I don’t understand. If you didn’t find her, how do you have her magic?”

“Black opal,” Numair replied as if that were the entire story. Not that Lindhall needed any more explanation as he just nodded as if the short answer made perfect sense.

“Goddess bless,” Alanna whispered as she stared at him, “so that’s why your magic looks so strange. You have some of Daine’s magic too?”

Numair nodded.

“Well, I’m not going to pretend any of this makes sense,” said Gary, “but it’s good you’re here. We need to get back to Tortall and prepare for war.”

“That won’t be necessary. I only came to tell you to go back to Tortall and make sure Jonathan knows the treaty will be honored.”

“But Ozorne-”

“Will not be emperor for much longer,” Numair replied, his voice like ice, “He hurt Daine and he’s going to pay dearly for it.”

“Good,” said Alanna and she stood from her spot on the bed, holding out her arms to Kitten, “Come on, Kitten. You can stay with me while your parents make sure the emperor gets his just desserts.”

Kitten chattered her dislike of that idea, curling up tighter in Numair’s arms.

He took a steadying breath and lifted the dragonet’s chin so that he could look her in the eyes, “Alanna’s right, little one. You need to go with her.”

She chattered an argument and for once Numair understood perfectly, “I know but if anything happened to you, both your mother and I would never forgive ourselves. We’ll be back with you soon, alright?”

Reluctantly agreeing, Kitten went into Alanna’s arms. Alanna went back to her seat and Kitten cooed a dragon’s tears as she cuddled into the knight’s lap.

Numair stepped forward to pet Kitten one last time before offering Alanna back her ring, “I believe this belongs to you.”

She folded his fingers back over the ring, staring up at him with righteous anger, “Give it back when we are all in Tortall again.”

“Thank you,” he said, knowing what Alanna meant. The ring was a focus, that meant he could draw on her magic if he needed. From her, it was a sign of trust above any other.

“What is your plan?” asked Duke Gareth.

Instead of answering directly, Numair looked to Lindhall, “I’m going back to the dungeons to look for Daine but that means I’ll need the simulacrum.”

Lindhall nodded, “I’ll find a way to get it to you.”

“There is a secret tunnel that leads to the dungeons,” said Alanna.

“I know it,” replied Lindhall.

“As do I,” said Numair, “That’s how I’ll have to sneak back in.”

“Then you’d best go quick,” said Gary, “before the emperor knows you’ve gone.”

Numair nodded and transformed into a hawk to fly back to the palace.


	13. Empty

By the time Numair arrived at the entrance to the dungeons, hidden within a dry aqueduct, he had burned through the last of the dark copper magic. In its absence, he felt cold and empty. Like he was missing a piece of himself.

His own gift was drained, leaving him barely awake and his swarthy skin a disheartening grey tone. With the exhilarating energy of the wild magic, he had not realized how much power he was consuming. It was a ridiculous mistake to make when there was so much at stake.

Sitting against the aqueduct's wall, he closed his eyes and meditated. It was difficult to do while inside the city, where trees were few and the stones touched by magic accumulated over centuries, but he managed to draw power from the natural world to supplement himself long enough to do what he needed to.

Numair had just finished his task when Lindhall arrived. There was a shadow behind him that sparkled in the night as if a piece of the sky had fallen to earth.

“Stop,” Lindhall told the shadow. It did as he commanded.

There was no greetings and no discussion. The two men knew what needed to happen, though neither of them was particularly happy about it.

With a heavy sigh, Numair stepped forward and held out his hand.

Lindhall deposited a ruby into Numair’s palm and the shadowy form tensed. Closing his hand around the gem, Numair whispered the spell that bound the simulacrum to him. Giving it life. The shadow’s skin liquified, shifting and reforming into an exact copy of Numair complete with eerily intelligent black eyes

It looked to him, waiting for the next command. Numair shivered.

“Come with me,” he told his simulated self.

“Wait,” said Lindhall and handed Numair another gem. It was a cat’s eye agate embued with an invisibility spell, “That should cover you on the way to your cell and until you complete your search.”

Numair nodded and released the invisibility spell. It fell over him and the simulacrum, thankfully obscuring the unnerving eyes from sight.

“Thank you, Lindhall. You’re the best man I know.”

“I would hug you but I’m afraid I would just end up knocking you over. Seeing as you are invisible.”

Despite his heavy heart, Numair chuckled.

 

When he reached his cell, he placed the agate in his pocket to bring his simulacrum into view. The thing stared at him, blank and waiting. Reaching out, he placed his hand on its chest and embued it with enough of his power to fool anyone. When he was done, he commanded it to sit against the wall. It did so and he used his gift to make it mimick a look of defeat. 

“You will wait here until the soldiers come to collect you. Then you will try to struggle against them for a few moments before giving up and letting them take you. You will appear defeated after that and until you receive your next command.”

The simulacrum did not react but he had not expected it to. It simply sat there, looking like a man who had lost everything.

To say the scene was disconcerting was an understatement of epic proportions.

Without another word, Numair left- locking the cell door behind him.

As he walked away, he unconsciously rubbed his hands on his trousers as if he could wipe away the scum of it all.

Numair began his search of the dungeons, walking from cell to cell and touching the cold surface of every door to reach out with his magic to touch the souls within. Few of the cells were empty.

Then he came upon one with a dampening spell over it. Careful to make sure no guards were around, he slid the viewing door open.

Daine was not inside but another familiar face was there to greet him.

Halzeem Crizarn had been the mage in service to the traitorous Lord Sinthya. After Halzeem had injected Numair with poison, he had transformed into a hawk to escape. Unfortunately, he had become locked in the bird shape and only Daine’s wild magic had been able to save him.

Halzeem had been a cruel and vile man but now he was barely human. From his long patchy hair and overgrown nails, Numair could deduce that the mage had been in this prison since his and his lord’s escape from Tortall.

At least Sinthya had been executed a few months after arriving. Halzeem had definitely not been that lucky. Time had defeated the man, folding him against the far wall where he longed for the Black God’s embrace.

An image flashed in his mind of a young girl, younger than Daine was, laid low in a cell by the very mage before him. She had died to teach Numair some perceived lesson on caring for others. It was a lesson Ozorne had been trying to teach him for years and it was one he refused to learn. He would always care about those around him because the day he stopped was the day he became Halzeem Crizarn. A man with no will to live.

Sliding the viewing door closed once more, he walked away and never so much as glanced back.

Three cells further down the corridor, Numair touched a door and was overcome with the same sensation that had nearly destroyed him in the great hall.

Daine was not in the dungeons but she had been. Numair could feel the residual wild magic in the air from when she had blindly called out to the animals around her, desperate for freedom.

Numair blinked back tears and forced his hand to fall away from the metal. 

The optimism of knowing she was not in the dungeons quickly gave way to a deeper fear. If she wasn’t in the dungeons, gods only knew where she was. Carthak was a big empire.

“Gods,” he prayed, “Let me find her soon.”


	14. King's Gambit Accepted

The Graveyard Hag’s temple had once been a jewel among the famed temples of Carthak, second only to the great golden temple of Mithros, but it had fallen to disrepair. Ozorne had long-since pillaged the temples, melting down the gold and adding the jewels to his treasury.

Yet there was still evidence of worship. Flower wreaths and candles adorned the marble bases where golden statues had once stood and hand-carved wooden figures replaced the stone hyenas that had been smashed to rubble. The last image of the goddess was a marble statue which stood at the center of the temple, larger than life and depicting a benevolent old woman with dice in one hand and a walking stick in the other.

Six men in crimson tunics and leather armor stood at the foot of the statue, staring up at the goddess in confusion. The captain, with his short white cloak, kept glancing from the statue to the orphans huddled around the room.

“Sir,” said his second in command, “I thought this was supposed to be the home of the rebels but-”

“I know,” said the captain as his focus fell on two little girls, clutching each other in fear, “Obviously we were misinformed. Come, men, let’s move out.”

“But, sir, the Emperor wanted the temple destroyed!” said one of the men.

The captain started toward the door, “Then he can do it himself. He started this war with the gods, he can finish it himself.”

“We’ll be hanged!” cried another man.

The captain turned and pinned the fearful soldier with a glare, “Let him. Our duty is to our country, not a madman.”

“Mithros will bless those who stand on the side of justice,” said the second in command, purposely moving to his captain’s side. The other men nodded and followed suit. As one they marched from the temple.

Numair dropped his invisibility spell and was immediately set upon by a dozen tiny arms in need of comfort.

“It’s alright,” he told the children, “I wouldn’t have let them hurt you.”

“We know,” said one brave boy who stood out from the others, sitting against the wall in a nonchalant posture, “because you're protected by the Graveyard Hag.”

“I wish that were true,” said Numair, glancing up at the statue. It looked nothing like the bowed and rueful goddess he knew from his dreams.

“You need us to search again?” asked another boy with greasy black hair.

“Unfortunately, yes.” The regret in his voice was real. He hated having to use children but they were the only ones the soldiers wouldn’t stop.

The boy took Numair’s hand, squeezing it with all his six-year-old strength, “We don’t mind. We want to help you find your friend.”

His mind was split between hope and fear. It had been three days with no word but he knew she had to be alive. He would have known if she wasn’t. How? He had no idea.

“Will you juggle for us first?” asked a little girl, her eyes still wide with fear.

Numair ruffled her curly red hair and smiled. She relaxed immediately, grinning back at him. “For a bit, then I have to use the tunnels again.”

“To talk to the man with the boney bird?” asked the black haired boy.

Numair smirked at the description of Bonedancer and nodded.

The children stood away from him, bouncing but waiting patiently for him open the rucksack near his feet. It was filled with apples.

“How many do you think I can catch today?” he asked with an absent curiosity.

“None of them!” said the little boy.

“Your confidence in my abilities is astounding,” he said dryly and a few of the children giggled.

Taking up three of the apples, he began juggling them effortlessly. The children stared up at the gravity-defying fruit in awe.

“Alright,” he told them after a moment, “Who’s first?”

The girl with the curly hair stepped forward and retrieved one of the apples with a mischevious look on her face. It was badly thrown but he caught it, adding it to the rotation effortlessly.

“Awww! I was sure you wouldn’t catch it!”

He smiled, “Well, you know the deal. I catch it, you have to repeat one of the facts I told you about the person I’m looking for.”

“She has really curly hair!” said the girl.

“You took the easy one!” yelled one of the boys and the red-haired girl stuck her tongue out at him.

“If you wanted to say that one, then you should have stepped up first. Alright, who’s next?”

The greasy-haired boy stepped up to pick up an apple, “Me!”

He threw the apple like a javelin but Numair managed to catch it without sending his other apples to the ground, “Wow, I almost didn’t catch that one. You have a very strong arm, young man.”

The boy beamed, “She has grey-blue eyes.”

“And smart too. You’ll make a great fighter one day.”

The boy who sat by the wall got to his feet, striding forward with the confidence only one of the older children could lay claim to. As if unbothered by the entertaining nature of the game, the boy picked up an apple and tossed it in a perfect arc. It wasn’t meant to throw Numair off, it was meant to caught.

“You love her,” the boy said simply and stalked off to return to his seat. Shocked by his matter-of-fact tone, Numair faltered, sending the apples falling to the ground.

“You dropped the apples!” The curly-haired girl mocked, her hands on her hips.

Numair hid his lingering surprise behind a nonchalant smile, “So I did. I suppose you children win. Again.”

Cheering, the children came to collect their prize- the apples. One-by-one they ran out of the temple, chomping on the fruit on their way to search the city. The last one to take an apple was the boy by the wall. He looked up at Numair with his bright golden eyes and said, “Sorry but I figured someone needed to tell you how obvious your being, before someone bad uses her to hurt you.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Numair replied sadly.

The boy turned the apple over in his hands, trying to distract himself from the memories that ghosted across his round face, “Oh. I’m sorry. I know that hurts.”

Numair gripped the boy’s shoulders, kneeling so he could look at him directly, “No, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t wish this pain on my worst enemy. Nevertheless a friend.”

The boy nodded, “Thanks, sir.”

He scrubbed a dirty sleeve across his eyes and turned to run after the others.

It was no wonder why this city was a powder keg of revolution. Hunger and famine always hit the poor the hardest and children left behind by the tragedy were always the deepest wounds. If Ozorne really cared about his people, that boy wouldn’t be glancing back at the temple with haunted eyes that had no place in such a young face.

 

“Open up, dolt,” he told the door but his heart wasn’t in the comical password.

It swung open to reveal Lindhall’s workrooms, complete with the master himself feeding a swarm of small geckos. The lizards tried to run up the glass walls of their habitat, clamoring for the live crickets Lindhall dropped into their mouths.

Kind blue eyes found Numair just as the door closed behind him.

“Any news from your little friends?” asked Lindhall.

Numair shook his head.

“You’ll find her, don’t worry.”

“You might as well ask me not to breathe,” replied Numair, moving to throw himself down in the desk chair. He let his head fall back, staring up at the blue-painted ceiling as if it would give him the answers he craved. “It’s been three days, three gods’ cursed days, and all I've got are whispers. She must still be Ozorne's captive or she would have found me by now. Gods, I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever find her.”

“Have hope, Numair. Nothing is final until you’re walking with the Black God.”

“I might as well be. Or haven’t you heard? My execution is tomorrow.”

“I have,” Lindhall replied sadly.

Numair sighed, “Cheer up, my friend. It promises to be the show of a lifetime.”

Lindhall rolled his eyes to the ceiling, “Gods save us from players.”

“So say we all.”


	15. Queen's Side Knight

A street player juggled apples, keeping six of them in the air at once. The children of poor and rich alike gathered around to watch, tossing whatever bits of precious they could into his collection box. It was kind but he didn’t require their patronage. He was paid in smiles, those bright pinpoints of light keeping his darkest thoughts at bay as he waited for events to play out.

The sound of drums reached his ears as adults of all backgrounds left their homes to line the streets. A parade came down the main road, rolling toward the player as he continued to entertain his audience.

As the creaking of wood drew closer, the children backed away and bowed their heads. The player looked toward the road in time to see an ox-drawn wagon roll past.

On the wagon, tied to a wooden stake, was Arram Draper. His arms bound behind him, he was bowed forward in a look of utter defeat. Inky black hair fell into his eyes, blocking his face from view. The mob threw rotten vegetables at him, cursing the traitor to the darkest of the Black God’s lands. Arram did not react, acting as if the projectiles were made of air and the insults nothing but smoke.

Slowly, the player followed the train of people as they accompanied Arram’s dejected form to the Gladiatorial Arena. 

He juggled the entire way, his hands keeping the apples airborne as the Colosseum come into view.

Ozorne knew better than anyone how much Arram detested the murders committed in the name of entertainment. He had healed those gladiators, nearly killing himself in his desperate need to save them all.

It was the last place Arram would want to die- a final insult from the man he had once called a friend.

The jester passed through the gates, his hands falling to his sides. The apples he had been juggling fell around him to land in the dirt, forgotten as his feet brought him to the railing where a crowd was gathered to watch the scene.

Arram was wheeled to the middle of the arena sands and a hush fell over the crowd. Ozorne stood on a marble dais that gave him a perfect view of the gladiatorial games. Everyone, from the Carthaki noble to the lowly street cleaner, watched Ozorne with baited breath. 

“Arram Draper, you have been found guilty of conspiracy against the Empire of Carthak! For that, you have been sentenced to death! Do you have any last words?”

Arram’s head rose, his dark eyes alight with pity. 

The player’s lips moved to speak with him. “Gods help you, Ozorne, because no one else will. For that, you’ve only yourself to blame.”

Ozorne frowned and clenched his fists. In a heartbeat, those fists became engulfed by green fire. The mob cheered, calling for violence.

Then, as if called by Arram’s words, the gilded statue of the Graveyard Hag began to move. A stunned stillness fell over the arena.

With a familiar grace, the statue leaped from its columned base and walked across the sands. It came to a stop between Ozorne and Arram, frozen once more as it looked down at the supposed traitor. Those on the far side of the arena saw the smile the gilded goddess bestowed on Arram, one that was kind and grateful. One that named him as a friend.

The crowd called out as one, gasping pleas to spare the man who was favored by their patroness that soon turned to an undeniable roar.

Calling out his anger over the crowd, Ozorne threw his hands forward. Green fire flew across the arena, melting through the golden statue to ignite the kindling at Arram’s feet. Arram struggled against his bonds as the fire licked his skin and traveled up his body.

The player couldn’t look away from the sight, even as Arram’s screams echoed across the silent arena. The sound of pure agony seeped into his ears to settle in the pit of his stomach, making him nauseous. The player counted his heartbeats as he waited for Arram’s screams to stop. It was only then that he could to drag his eyes from the fire to look toward Ozorne.

The Emperor had collapsed into his throne, looking down at his hands as if they were no longer his. His lips moved and the player could only just make out what he said. 

“Goodbye, Arram.”

Screams erupted from the crowd, denials, and accusations flying through the air to echo across the Empire. With them came chaos as the mob turned against its ruler.

Ozorne could no longer count himself above the gods. Their justice would come on swift wings, bourne on the backs of the people he was supposed to protect.

Pushing away from the railing, the player turned to leave the arena behind.

A gust of wind carried Arram’s charred remains into the air. 

A separate, gentler breeze brushed across the player’s features. With its kiss, the mask of a common street performer was torn away. 

Only Numair Salmalin remained.


	16. Queen's Bishop to C-4

Numair gasped as his heart was thrust back into his chest cavity.

Wild magic, searing hot and untamable, called out to him.

He was unprepared for the onslaught of fury that came with the familiar sensation but he was not alone. Every animal in the area reacted violently. Horses threw their riders, dogs snapped at passersby, and cats turned claws on street urchins. Even the people of Carthak seemed to be affected as the impoverished and hungry demanded vengeance for every injustice done to them in the name of their Emperor.

In one move, Numair had visited chaos upon the city but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Daine was alive.

She was alive and she had seen him die.

As if coming to the same conclusion he had, the animals of the city froze and every head turned toward the palace.

Only one animal was unaffected. A smokey-brown sparrow sped across the city, heading directly for the palace.

“Sir!”

A small hand pulled at Numair's shirt sleeve. He looked down to find the small boy with the golden eyes staring up at him in open terror.

“You have to come quick! The others! They’re trapped in the temple and it’s on fire!”

Numair’s freshly returned heart split in two as he glanced back at the sky. The sparrow was gone but a new blot had formed in the air- a cloud of smoke tinged with the orange of a roaring blaze.

His mind race through facts like mice through a maze. Daine was alive but headed into trouble. The children were trapped and needed his help. It was the most difficult choice he would ever have to make. It wasn’t a choice at all. The children were helpless. Daine was not.

“Damnit, Daine! If you get yourself killed I’ll never forgive you!”

Turning to the boy Numair practically yelled at him, “Go to the university. Tell Master Lindhall that Daine is at the palace and she’s probably about to do something extremely idiotic.”

“But-”

“Just go! I’ll save your friends.”

The boy nodded and ran toward the university.

Numair sprinted toward the temple, pushing aside revolutionaries as he went. 

He emerged in the heat of a fire so savage that it appeared alive. Calling his magic around him, he created a shield and rushed through the sagging temple entrance. What he found on the other side awed even him. The children were gathered around the base of the Graveyard Hag’s statue and protected by a crackling shield of golden magic.

Numair passed through the shield as if it were made of fog and the children rushed to him.

“You came! She said you would!” said the red-haired girl as she gripped his leg.

He didn’t need to ask who.

“She was right,” he admitted begrudgingly and started ushering the children toward the exit.

As soon as they passed through the threshold and to a safe distance, the temple collapsed.

He looked toward the mass of small grateful faces gathered around him, “Go to the university. You will be safe there.”

“What about you?” asked the greasy-haired boy.

“I found my friend.”

“Good,” said the little girl, “Then you should go tell her you love her.”

Despite his racing heart, he smiled down at her, “I think I’ll do just that. Now go.”

The children raced off and Numair turned toward the palace.

“I swear, she better be alright or nothing will stop me from ripping a hole in the divine realms for the sole purpose of making you wish you weren’t immortal.”

A mirthful cackle followed him toward the gates.


	17. King On The Run

The palace gates were impassible. The people pushed at the locked bars, trying to break through the sturdy iron with will alone.

Numair threaded through the crowd, ready to blast through if necessary but screams from near the gates alerted everyone of a monster, a demon.

It was neither. It was a skeletal dinosaur brought back to life.

The club-tailed creature smashed through the gates like they were paper and turned to continue its rampage through the palace.

More dinosaurs emerged, smashing through walls and descending upon the palace like a righteous storm.

For a moment, the people stared in awe but then a cry erupted from the crowd, “The gods are just!”

The crowd surged forward, spilling into the open courtyard. Numair was pulled with them, dragged along by the undertow of the rebellion he had ignited. Carthaki people and ancient creatures were united in one cause. The destruction of everything Ozorne held dear.

Unlike them though, Numair no longer cared about the fate of the Emperor. He only cared about finding Daine.

There was a clear path of chaos, starting from the Hall of Bones and moving outward. The walls that had once contained the rampaging creatures had been turned to rubble. The sheer amount of destruction was unfathomable but what had Numair stopping in his tracks was a number. Seventy-two- the number of dinosaurs contained within the Hall of Bones. 

There was not a single skeleton left on display. They were all awake.

Just waking one had nearly killed Daine, what had seventy-two done?

Numair pushed the thought aside. He could feel her magic permeating the air around the palace. She was alive and that was all that mattered. She was alive and he had to find her.

He reached out with his gift and found the brightest tendril of wild magic he could. His shadowy magic merged with the copper, seeping into it and changing it into a single thread of sparkling dark copper meant to lead him to Daine.

As he went, he took in the aftermath of his actions. Whatever wasn’t turned to rubble by skeletal feet had been melted by magefire. One dinosaur, in particular, had been burned so badly it turned to ash as a gust of wind blew through the broken walls of what had once been the great hall. 

It was there that he found Kaddar and Lindhall, emerging from a hole in the floor that used to be hidden by a secret door.

Kaddar scanned the chaos around him, his expression caught between fear and awe.

“She did all this?” Lindhall asked, stunned.

“Yes,” said Numair as he approached the two men.

Kaddar’s jaw went slack when he saw the tall mage and he made the sign against evil.

Numair couldn’t be bothered to explain. There wasn’t time, judging by the increasing evidence of magefire. “Daine is this way.”

He started to continue down his path when Kaddar pulled him to a stop, “How? I saw-”

“You saw what I wanted you to see,” Numair snapped, his patience thin, “I wanted the world to see just what your uncle was capable of. Where his priorities lay.”

Kaddar snatched his hand from Numair’s arm as if it had burned him, “Mithros, Minos, and Shaketh! Do you know what you’ve done?”

“What should have been done a long time ago.”

Spinning on his heel, Numair started back on his journey. 

He was only vaguely aware that Kaddar and Lindhall followed him as the merged magics led him toward the menagerie.

All the enclosures had been opened, the animals set free to join in the destruction. Yet they all froze as Numair approached, staring at him in awe as he passed.

“Let me pass!” came a voice from the back of the menagerie, heated and undeniable. It was the thickly accented command of Master Chioke. Orange magic lit the air and pulsed through the ground as the master battlemage threw magic wildly.

“No!”

Numair felt his feet pull him into a run as he recognized the second voice. Varice.

She was standing before the gates of the immortals’ menagerie, a shield of soft blue crackling around her as Chioke threw bolt after bolt at her. 

Varice’s shield never wavered, held fast by the same determination that graced her features. On her shoulder, Zek offered silent support- staring down the master as if he was holding the shield himself.

“You would protect her! That demon! She’ll destroy us all!” yelled Chioke.

Before Numair even knew what was happening, tendrils of sparkling dark copper reached out to wrap around Chioke, cutting off his vicious insults along with his oxygen supply. Numair blinked and pulled the power back and Chioke gulped in air.

“Numair?”

Varice was staring at him in open shock, hesitant hope in her eyes. When he nodded confirmation that he was, indeed, alive, her expression changed into a mask of ferocity as she turned her attention back to Chioke. She reached out with her magic to wrap the master in an aura of soft blue.

“I’ve got him. You need to go after Daine. Before she does something she’ll regret.”

Numair pulled the magic away from Chioke and moved toward Varice, stopping by her side.

She spoke before he could, “You’ve already thanked me, remember? Go.”

He nodded again and entered the immortals’ menagerie.


	18. Checkmate

Just inside the gate, a skeleton blocked the path. It was mostly melted, the bronze used to preserve the bones creating blood-like pools on the cobbled stones. The dinosaur was one he knew well, the three-horned protector who had promised him that Daine would be safe. 

It shuddered and tried to rise when he approached but he placed a gentle hand on the creature’s neck frill. There was a flash of bright light and Numair saw the creature once more in his mind’s eye. It nodded to him and turned to walk back into the thick forests of its ancient home. It’s promise fulfilled, it was free.

A bubble of coughing laughter pulled Numair’s attention toward the cages where the Stormwing Queen was held.

What he found there was a scene out of his memory but twisted, darker.

Ozorne stood against the back wall of the menagerie, his only means of escape blocked by three hyenas. They licked their chops, peering at the Emperor like prey. Despite having nowhere to go, he kept backing away from the animals, his hands searching the solid wall for any flaw that might mean his salvation.

Among the powerful creatures was Daine but, instead of taking the full shape of a hyena, only her teeth and ears had changed. She grinned at the emperor, running her tongue along the sharp canines in anticipation.

“Daine,” Numair breathed, half relieved and half frightened. 

He was sure that if a crackling green shield of magic didn’t stand between Daine and Ozorne, the emperor would already be dead.

That knowledge turned his muscles to ice, leaving him unable to step forward and face the truth of what his actions had turned her into.

“It’s over uncle!” said Kaddar, authoritative in a way that only a young man born to be Emperor could be. “Surrender now! Abdication, after all, is far better than death.”

Ozorne turned a cold glare on Kaddar, “Abdication! Never!”

“Then it shall be the hyenas! Just as the Graveyard Hag promised!”

Ozorne sneered, “Promises, is it!”

The Emperor reached up, sliding his hand beneath the thin braids of his hair and pulling out a single steel feather. Nearby, the Stormwing Queen and her mate leaned forward, smiling menacingly.

“Well, I have a promise in reserve!”

“Don’t!” Lindhall cried but it was too late.

Daine snarled and leaped toward Ozorne but was thrown backward when he sent the steel feather through his forearm.

Crimson magic bloomed from the wound, swirling around him like a tornado of blood. When at last the crimson magic cleared, everyone could see the folley of Ozorne's choice.

Newly-minted steel feathers clicked as Ozorne’s body grew accustomed to it’s changed form.

The hyenas and Stormwings laughed.

“You fool!” cackled Rikash, appearing beside his liberated Queen, “You belong to the Stone Tree Nation now!”

Grey magic, belonging to Lindhall, kept the more dangerous creatures at bay but a gust of wind blew through the area as winged immortals took to the skies. The Undine giggled happily as they zipped away to the safety of nature, and unicorns created a thunderous drumbeat as they raced through the open gate. 

Numair was barely aware of what was happening, his focus entirely on Daine as she growled a deadly, “NO! He’s mine!” and pushed herself from the ground.

Rikash flew over to land between her and Ozorne, placing his razor-sharp feathers in her path.

“As entertaining as it would be to watch you rip him to pieces, he still has a debt to pay. Him and that traitorous cur, Jokhun.”

“No!” she screamed at the Stormwing, “He has to pay for what he’s done!”

Then, just as soon as her rage rose it seeped away from her, pulling her canine features away with it. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared at Rikash with pleading eyes.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” she whispered and wrapped her arms around herself.

Rikash rolled his eyes and flicked his wing toward the place where Numair stood, “Oh, it isn’t as bad as you think. You might want to look behind you.”

Daine gaped at him, “What?”

Rikash didn’t answer, flapping his great wings to ascend into the sky along with Barzha and her mate.

“Ozorne!” Rikash called after him, his voice sickly sweet, “Come along, sweetling. We have much to discuss.”

When Ozorne-the-Stormwing made no moves to follow, Barzha turned to hover above him. “You heard him! Come!”

His features twisted in agony as he tried to disobey, “No! I am the Emperor Mage of Carthak!”

“Not anymore,” said Barzha.

Pain ultimately forced Ozorne into the air, wobbling on unsure wings as he dutifully followed his queen into the darkening sky.


	19. The Pack Bond

“What was he talking about?” Daine asked the ground, confusion and denial warring over control of her body.

The instinctual need to comfort her pulled Numair a step forward but the sudden tension in her shoulders held him back. The combined force of their magics drifted toward her, wrapping around her like a blanket.

Slowly she turned.

Her blue-grey eyes widened and she scrambled backward, tripping over her grief and falling backward into the protective circle of the hyenas.

She shook her head vehemently as fresh tears pooled in her eyes, “No. You’re not real. I saw-”

Numair took another tentative step forward as his lungs shriveled in his chest, “It’s me, magelet.”

Daine couldn’t look away from him even as sobs racked her, “No! I saw it! I saw him- and I didn’t stop it! I didn’t stop him!”

“It was a simulacrum,” he told her, his voice cracking under the weight of what he had done.

His thoughts froze as she stood, never blinking, and closed the distance between them. She reached up as if to touch him but snatched her hand away at the last second as fear flashed across her features.

“What are we?” she asked him, the words a thick murmur, “Why do we look out for each other?”

He reached up carefully, expecting her to shrink away but she remained completely still as he brushed a wild curl from her tear-dampened cheek, “Because we are pack.”

Daine threw herself at him with such force he staggered backward before regaining his balance and wrapping her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest and inhaled deeply.

“It’s really you,” she breathed as if that was the final confirmation she needed.

“Yes,” he replied, warmth spreading through him to erase everything but the feeling of having her with him again.

She pulled back, searching his face, “The simu-thingy, that was the secret you were keeping.”

He closed his eyes against the hurt in her features, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I made him,” said a cackling voice from behind them.

Numair turned without letting go of Daine to find the Graveyard Hag standing there, looking unbelievably smug.

“Didn’t I tell you everything would work out if you paid your debt?” asked the Hag.

“Debt?” Daine asked, now thoroughly confused.

Numair sighed, “I had to learn the hard way not to play dice with her.” He passed the goddess a glare, “She cheats.”

“Well, I could have told you that,” Daine said so matter-of-factly that he had to wonder as to the context, “So you were using us BOTH?”

The goddess rolled her eyes, “I wouldn’t have had to if you both weren’t so damned stubborn. You know the fires I had to jump through to keep you two from giving away the game?”

Daine scoffed, “Oh, I’m sure it was fair difficult for you.”

The Graveyard Hag looked down in a mimicry of a pout, “No one ever appreciates me.”

“My heart bleeds for you, my lady,” Numair drawled, not the least bit amused.

A swirl of silver magic appeared at the goddess’ feet, revealing the Badger-god, _If you’re quite done, take that ridiculous power back before it kills the girl!_

“As you wish Master Badger,” said the Hag and held out a gnarled hand to Daine.

Daine placed her hand in the goddess’ and there was a flash of white light.

When the light faded, the Graveyard Hag danced away, “Well, it’s been fun but I’ve got things to do.”

She swept Kaddar’s arm up as she passed him, dragging him with her, “Well, aren’t you a handsome one. Yes, you will make a fine Emperor. Now, listen carefully because I WILL NOT repeat myself. My temple needs to be rebuilt. Promptly. And none of that pathetic four-columns and a roof, I want it to be grand. I am your patroness after all.”

Kaddar glanced behind him, silently pleading for help but Daine just shrugged.

“Oh, and no more of those cheap incense! I…” the Graveyard Hag’s voice faded away as she and Kaddar disappeared into the main part of the menagerie, the hyenas following in her wake.

Silver mist flowed over those immortals still held by Lindhall’s magic and they disappeared.

The mage let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you, Master Badger.”

 _Think nothing of it, mortal. Now._ He turned his grumpy demeanor on Daine, _You should go home as soon as possible. You don’t belong in this place._ Then he turned an animalistic glare on Numair, _Neither of you do._

“I don’t know. Carthak’s not so bad,” said Daine, “Though, I’ll be glad if I never see the Graveyard Hag again.”

“She’s kind of grown on me,” said Numair.

“Don’t even-” Daine yawned deeply.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded but it was wobbly, “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“So I saw. Are you aware that the entire palace has been reduced to rubble?”

Daine had the wherewithal to look contrite, “I thought he killed you. I lost my temper.”

Numair lifted her chin so that he could look into the grey-blue eyes that were his haven, “That is the greatest understatement I’ve ever heard.”

She smiled up at him sleepily and opened her mouth to reply. She yawned again instead.

“Come, magelet, we should get you to bed.”

“You’ll stay with me?” she asked, a tremor of fear to her voice.

He brushed his knuckles across her cheek, “As long as you need me.”

Relaxing under the combined effect of his touch and reassuring words, she leaned into him and rested her head on his chest, “Hmmm. Good.”

Daine went limp and Numair lifted her into his arms, alarmed. Snuggling closer to him, she hummed softly in her sleep.

_She’ll be fine. Three days of rest should be enough._

“Three days,” he repeated with a sigh, “Three more gods’ cursed days.”

“Three days is a lifetime for some,” said Lindhall, clapping Numair on the shoulder, “but considering how long you’ve waited already, I doubt three days will kill you.”

“You make a very good point.”


	20. Love Defined

There was a knock on the door. Frowning, Numair set aside his book and glanced at the still sleeping Daine. She lay in the bed beside him, her head resting on a pillow in his lap. “Come in.”

Kaddar peeked in, “Master Numair, may I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course, your majesty,” Numair replied, waving in the now-Emperor, 

Moving inside, Kaddar stopped at the end of the bed and glanced from Daine to the mage and back again. “How is she?”

“Fine, what is it that you needed to speak to me about?”

“Well, could you, um, come with me? We can speak in the garden.”

Numair sighed, reading the emperor’s discomforted expression, “I’m sorry but I can’t. Whenever I get up she gets restless and she needs all the rest she can get. Don’t worry, I very much doubt she’ll wake up until tomorrow.”

“Oh, um, well, I just thought you would want to know we finally got a scribe to record Master Chioke’s confession. There was...a lot. Including that he was testing the dampening spell designed for you on Daine. Here.” Kaddar removed a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Numair.

Opening it, he found that it was a copy of the dampening spell but it had been altered slightly. Numair could guess why.

“That’s the only copy left of both spells. I had all the rest of Chioke’s notes destroyed.”

Numair ripped it to pieces, “Thank you.”

Kaddar shrugged, “It’s the least I can do. I apparently owe you two my life. Chioke said...my uncle was going to bring Princess Kalasin here and immediately have me executed for treason.”

“We wouldn’t have let that happen,” said Numair, “The king’s spymaster and I had plans in place to protect the princess and after meeting you I amended them to assure you were able to escape as well.”

Kaddar gaped, “Really?”

Numair nodded, “Making friends with Daine was the best thing you could have done for yourself.”

“I’m starting to see that,” said Kaddar, smiling fondly down at her, “She’s a wonderful person. If not a little frightening.”

“Regretting handing me that spell, your majesty?”

Kaddar shook his head, “No. I would hate for it to fall into the wrong hands. Not that it seems to work very well. They tried to apprehend her at the arena but she was able to break the spell somehow.”

“I doubt she would be able to do it again,” Looking down at Daine, his heart felt heavy as he explained, “Her magic is deeply tied to her emotions.”

“I see,” said Kaddar and he passed Numair a sad smile, “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think she blames you.”

“It doesn’t matter if she does or not. I shouldn’t have used that simulacrum. I should have found another way. I was foolish, trying so hard to protect her when she really didn’t need me to. In the end, all I accomplished was hurting her in the worst way possible.”

Kaddar chuckled, “Now I see what the Graveyard Hag meant.”

“What do you mean?”

Though his expression was chiding, Kaddar’s tone was rueful, “She was trying to protect you too. In fact, I was standing right there when she made Alanna promise to keep you from doing anything as foolish as what happened in the aviary. I have the feeling that a lot of this could have been avoided if you two weren’t being so stubborn.”

Sighing, Numair brushed the hair from Daine’s face, “You’re probably right.”

 

As promised, Daine's eyes fluttered open on the third day. Still laying on his lap, her half-lidded gaze immediately fell on him and she smiled.

He smiled back at her, “How are you feeling, magelet?”

“Still a little tired,” she mumbled as she stretched, “But better.”

“Good,” he said and averted his gaze, “You’re probably hungry. Let me see if I can’t find you something to eat.”

He made to get up but she stopped him, “Please, don’t leave.”

Frowning down at her hand on his arm, he tried to keep the guilt out of his voice, “You really do need to eat something. I promise I’ll be right back.”

“No, I-” Turning her head away, she pulled her hand away from him and started to sit up. He tried to help her but she waved him off and put some distance between them, moving into a tailor’s seat.

After what seemed like an eternity, she whispered, “You died.”

The pain in her voice nearly destroyed him. “It was a simulacrum. It wasn’t real.”

“It was real to me,” she said, “I thought you were dead.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I should have-” 

Her voice grew heated as she cut him off, “No, we both know the Graveyard Hag wanted me to think you were dead. So, can you stop blaming yourself long enough for me to get to the point?”

Despite the way her words only seemed to make him feel guiltier, he let go of the argument that sprang to his lips for her sake, “Alright.”

“Good,” she said and her anger visibly drained away. She started fiddling with her badger claw, refusing to look at him as she continued, “I need to ask you something but before I ask, will you promise to answer honestly? Even if it might hurt my feelings? Because I need to know. After everything, I just- I just need to know.”

Numair reached over and stilled her hand, bringing her focus to him, “I promise.”

Nodding, she gently pulled her hand from his, “If I told you that I love you, what would you say?”

His heart stopped and there was a long silence as he worked to get it started again. Taking a deep breath, he answered honestly, “I would ask you to define love.”

She smirked down at her hands but he could still see how his answer hurt her.

“Daine, look at me, please?” he said, needing her to see how serious he was, “The definition of love is a complex one. Texts define it as a profound affection for another person but that leaves a lot of room for interpretation. Before I could answer I would need to know your personal definition. What the word meant to you when you said it.”

Cocking her head, she looked off in the distance as she contemplated her answer. When she spoke it was with that practical affection only she was capable of, “Well, it’s not the love like everyone talks about. Like how they talk about it in the plays during festivals. More like how eagles feel when they lock their claws together and dive toward the ground. I s’pose that doesn’t make sense. How would you know how that feels? You’ve never spoken to an eagle.

"I guess it means trust, more than anyone but also, something else. Fear too, being afraid to be without the other person because you know you’ll never be able to trust anyone else like that. Or that no one else could ever make you that happy either.” She grimaced and her head fell, “You weren’t kidding when you said it was complicated.” Gesturing toward him in defeat, she sighed, “You would know how to explain it better. You always know how to say things so they make sense.”

Reaching over, he lifted her chin, “It made perfect sense to me.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

She looked at him and he at her as a magnetic force they couldn’t explain pulled at them, bringing them together until their lips touched. 

At that moment, there was only them. No outside world to contend with, no doubts, no fears. Just Numair and Daine and their happiness. As they became lost in the sensation, their magic rose around them, merging into that force of unnamed power the color of sparkling dark copper.

They pulled apart as the magic touched them, dancing over their skin like static. Watching it flicker through the air, they unconsciously entwined their hands.

“You know,” said Numair, a note of awe to his voice, “Most scholars would look at that and think such a thing shouldn’t be possible seeing as wild magic and the gift are two very different types of power.”

“Well, most people think we’re strange anyways. Why would our magic be any different?”

“Doesn’t that make you wonder? Especially considering that it seems to happen without our direct input?”

She shrugged, “Not really.”

“Your lack of curiosity is extremely disheartening, magelet.”

“Some things don’t need to be explained,” she said, squeezing his hand, “You just feel them and know their right.”

Squeezing her hand in return, he smiled, “You’re probably right.”

“I know I am.”

He raised his free hand in a show of surrender, “Far be it from me to doubt you.”

“Oh bother with your doubts and curiosity. I could care less. I just want you to kiss me again.”

“Oh, well, in that case. Bother with it all.”

Brushing the curls from her cheek, he kissed her.

It was a gentle show of affection, one meant to demonstrate everything she meant to him.

No mere words could convey how much he wanted to never be without her again.

Gods and their games be damned.


	21. Fair Winds and Following Seas

Over the next few days Daine and Numair gave statements before the Carthaki council and Mithrian preists. These near-interrogations were difficult (listening to Daine recount his precieved death was particularly painful) and after every day spent at the Great Temple, Numair escorted Daine back to the University with purposeful distance.

Yet, when they arrived at the gates, Daine stopped and held out her hand to him, silently refusing to take another step until he touched her.

Once he gave in, they walked the grounds until the sunset. Then they would fall into the same bed and fall asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

It was after three days of this routine that the Carthaki Council decided the couple would be confined to the University grounds while they deliberated.

During that following week, Daine spent every moment she could helping Lindhall care for the many animals brought to him. The older mage marveled at Daine’s abilities and more than once expressed jealousy at her gift, begging her to stay in Carthak.

Meanwhile, Numair was given full access to the University Archives and the real spells used to create the barrier between the divine and mortal realms. Unfortunately, they proved to provide more questions than answers and Numair was more than a little shocked to learn what those venerated mages had done.

“Numair?” a familiar voice called from the far side of the basement-level room.

He habitually raised his hand above the stacks of books and scrolls that surrounded him; his long nose still pointed toward a history of demi-gods, children born of one mortal parent and one divine.

“Now this is a familiar sight.”

“Hmm?” At first, Numair only glanced up from his book, expecting to find Daine there with her hands on her hips and a patient smile on her face. Instead, Varice easily navigated the piles of books that littered the floor around the desk to stand over his shoulder. “Oh! I thought you were Daine.”

She chuckled, “I’m sure. Poor Daine must have to dig you out of here each night! Gods know that even as a student you’d forget to eat if I didn’t bring you supper!”

Numair joined her mirthful nostalgia, “Well, I’m afraid not much has changed save for the fact that Daine doesn’t bring supper, she obstinately drags me to the dining hall.”

Peering over his shoulder at the passage he had been reading her curtain of hair fell forward, revealing a sleeping Zek curled into the crook of her neck. “That seems like a strange thing to be reading.”

It was a dismal study, to say the least. Demi-gods who lived through birth either grew up orphans because their mothers' had died or were killed young under strange circumstances.

“It’s mostly useless information but I thought it might reveal some answers. You see, in examining the spells used to create the barrier between the Divine and Mortal realms, I found that the key ingredient was divine blood, and we both know that any spell to break a ward must have equal power. So where had Ozorne gotten the divine blood? The most logical answer would be from the child of a god but it seems most don’t live into adulthood.”

Varice nodded her understanding academically, “While that is sad, it is probably a good thing. According to the Book of Chaos children of gods bring drastic change to the world. It was even foretold that a god-child and a mage would bring about the return of the Queen of Chaos, freeing her to devour the realms.”

“That only works to make me more apprehensive,” said Numair, turning back to the passage with a grimace, “I wonder if there is a way to test a blood sample for traces of divinity? I mean, Ozorne was the first mage born to the Tshike line, in what? Twelve generations? And there were all those rumors that his mother might not have been faithful.”

“There’s always rumors like that about the royal family.”

“Very true, still, it’s worth considering. Unless there was someone among those falsely imprisoned that possessed divine blood but I think the gods would have been involved far sooner if that were the case.”

Varice sighed, “It’s hard to say what the gods would do but, Numair, I didn’t come here to talk about the barrier. I wanted to speak with you about us.”

“Us?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

She looked down, fiddling with the end of her ornate waist-belt, “You and Daine are leaving tomorrow. The council has determined that Kaddar will sign the treaty but that you two are to leave on the first available ship with the promise only to return by majority permission of the council. So, well, I thought I would say a proper goodbye because I won't ever see you again.”

He captured her hand, stilling the nervous movements, “Is that what you want?”

Finally meeting his gaze with shining blue eyes, she nodded.

“Then who am I to deny you?” he said with a sad smile, “I owe you more than I could ever repay.”

She shook her head slowly, “You don’t owe me anything. Everything I did, I did because I love you. Maybe, in time, I’ll love someone else but I can’t try if I keep waiting for Arram to come back.”

Standing, he took her hand and brought it to his lips in a chaste kiss, “I pray to every god willing to listen that one day you find someone to love you the way you deserve.”

“And I pray that you and Daine find peace together. ”

“So say we all.”

“And so may it be.”

 

The next day, Numair and Daine arrived at the docks to see Kaddar and Lindhall waiting for them.

Lindhall was the first to step forward, his crimson and brown robe catching on the chilly autumn breeze. Bonedancer peeked over his shoulder, eyeing Daine and Numair as they met Lindhall halfway.

“I think it will be rather boring without you two.”

Numair smirked, “I’m sure you’ll find your way to Tortall eventually. If for no other reason to continue assaulting Daine with questions.”

Elbowing him playfully, Daine smiled kindly at the older mage, “Please say you’ll come visit us? I like talking about the People with you.”

“From you, that is the highest compliment I’ve ever received in my life,” said Lindhall and bowed formally. When he straightened, Daine surprised him with a hug. He recovered quickly, wrapping her in a fatherly embrace.

When the two separated, Lindhall awkwardly cleared his throat to banish the sudden thickness.

“I will visit. I promise,” Lindhall said at last and turned to Numair. The two men shook hands but their grip lasted too long as the men hesitated to part once more.

“I’ll hold you to that,” said Numair.

“Don't worry, you'll at least see each other at my wedding,” said Kaddar, moving to stand confidently beside Lindhall, “Eight years might seem like a long time but I think it will take at least that long for the council to forget that you two single-handedly turned the city upside-down.”

Daine chuckled at Kaddar’s light tone, “As long as you aren’t a dolt, we won’t have to do it again.”

“If that isn’t a sufficient deterrent, I don’t know what is,” Kaddar replied, shaking his head ruefully.

“Well, for what’s it’s worth, good luck, your majesty,” said Daine.

“Yes, may the gods bless your rein,” said Numair.

He bowed elegantly and Daine followed suit, executing an awkward curtsey.

When they straightened, Kaddar took their hands into his, “I wish you both could stay.”

Daine shook her head vehemently, sending her curls scattering from their pins, “Even if we could, I’m ready to go home.”

Kaddar’s shoulders fell, “Then I suppose I should wish you safe travels.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

As the sails caught the wind and drug the ship out to sea, Diane and Numair waved from the rail until Kaddar and Lindhall became nothing but dots on the horizon.

“Numair?”

“Yes?”

“Can you feel a storm coming?”

He turned to her with a furrowed brow to see her staring blankly out into the distance, “Why do you ask?”

Daine hid a shiver behind a shrug. “No reason.”

“Daine if-”

She spun on him, cutting him off with a brilliant smile that smothered his thoughts under a blanket of warm affection, “It’s nothing, really. I just want to go home.”

Numair let out a long breath, “We should talk eventually. There is a lot to discuss.”

“Then let’s do it when we get home. For now, let’s enjoy the peace. Alright?”

Brushing a wayward lock of hair from her eyes, he smiled, “As you wish, magelet.”


End file.
